The World's On Fire
by sweet-surrender5
Summary: GSR. When your only hope is staying sane in a crazy world, sometimes one person is the only thing you can rely on. Grissom and Sara are called to a disaster scene near Lake Tahoe. COMPLETE!
1. Prologue

disclaimer: I don't own anything from CSI, Fatal Voyage, or anything remotely related to Nevada or California or Lake Tahoe. I'va also never been to Lake Tahoe and my descriptions are probably wayy off so if you know the area, I'm sorry for any inconsistencies.

a/n: This story was sort of inspired by "Fatal Voyage" by Kathy Reichs...Best author you'll ever read if you love CSI. She's amazing. :) Oh, and you know who else is amazing? My beta, **TroddenBlack**. You rock, Brain! The lyircs throughout this fic are "World's On Fire" by Sarah McLachlan. hope you like it!

Summary: Grissom and Sara are called to work a plane crash near the California/Nevada border. Struggling to keep sane, they only have each other when everything seems crazy.

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**Chapter One: Prologue**

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**_" I watch the heavens but I find no calling  
Something I can do to change whats coming..."_**_**  
**__-----_

Rebecca McCarthy awoke on a early fall evening to the loud sound of a plane's engines, something not regularly heard when camping. She was in her tent, along with her husband, Jack. Their three children lay sleeping in the tent a few yards away, likely tuckered out from the hike they had endured during the day from Lake Tahoe. 

She briefly wondered what a plane that loud would be doing so close to the State Park that lay nearby this early in the morning. A quick glance at her watch told her that it was 2:37am -- the sun wasn't even up yet. She watched as Jack slept, his brown curly hair tousled and his mouth a little smile. _He_ was probably tuckered out after the "hike" of their own they had endured not too long ago…

They had figured the kids were far enough away, and they were probably sound asleep. Not that Jack and Becca really wanted anymore kids (three was really quite enough) but they figured that they only had a little while to make the most of it. Georgie, Christian, and Lizzie were there three beautiful children, 10 being the oldest and 6 the youngest. There was something about bringing them here for a nice family vacation that made her feel so fortunate to have them together here...

As the plane continued to grow closer (she could tell by the sound) she had the gut feeling that something wasn't right. The plane didn't sound right. It was getting closer, closer with every passing second. It sounded low, like it was only a few hundred feet up. Leaves began to tremble in anticipation of the ominous looming object in the sky as it neared.

Something was wrong.

"Jack...Jack! Wake up!" She whispered, shaking her husband's shoulder. He sat up groggily. "You hear that?"

"Yeah. It's a plane honey. You know, big flying things that carry people. Get used to it." He said, flopping back down on the mattress.

"It doesn't sound normal...it sounds really close..." She said, not worried, but sort of anxious. The plane had gotten so loud that she had to stop whispering.

"Honey, go back to sleep--" The plane drowned out Jack McCarthy's voice and the moonlight gracing the surface of their tent was suddenly cut off from their view. Then, for a fraction of second, Rebecca heard pure silence -- nothing. No wind, no trees, no birds, no bugs, no **sound. **

Then the air was illuminated with yellows and reds, oranges and whites. Intense heat blasted from left, right, up, and down, and the earth seemed to rock on its very foundations. Then, she could hear again. Screeching metal, deafening booms and explosions...sounds of destruction, sounds so horrible, they belong in hell.

She instinctively curled up into a ball and stayed like that, completely scared out of her mind. After what seemed like a lifetime of inexplicable terror, she lifted her head and then she remembered -- the kids.

She screamed, unable to hear herself. Smoke filled her lungs, the windows of the tent not doing much to screen it. The smell of annihilation was rank in the air – she smelled gasoline, burning wood, and a faint whiff of what could only be described as burning flesh. Coughing, she unzipped the tent blindly and ran frantically outside to find her children. She shielded her eyes from the smoke and fire in the trees surrounding her and immediately tripped and fell onto something large, white, and searing hot.

But she didn't feel the pain as she looked up and saw that her children's tent was not there. It had been replaced by a smoldering piece of airplane wreckage. She opened her mouth to scream again, but was silenced as a burning tree fell, pinning her body to the burning metal.

And all she saw was black.

**To be continued...**

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a/n: review if you like (i know there's not much to be said) but make sure you read the next chapter when it comes out (it'll likely be soon!)...thank you!


	2. Not Alone

a/n: well, here is the second chapter. sorry about the divider lines (is anyone else having trouble with them?) hope you enjoy it. thanks to **TroddenBlack **for your awesome help on this!

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**Chapter Two: Not Alone**

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_**"Hearts are worn in these dark ages,  
You're not alone in these stories' pages..."**_

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When Gil Grissom had woken up that morning and flicked on CNN, he'd heard about a Boeing 747 airplane that had crashed near Lake Tahoe. Two minutes later, he'd received the call from the Las Vegas Police Headquarters that he would have to go to the site and help recover bodies and survivors as a CSI.

"Honey...honey, wake up," he'd whispered softly to the woman beside him in bed, sadly watching her smile as she heard his voice. He'd softly kissed her cheek and from that moment he'd known that it wasn't going to be easy, either way. She opened her eyes sleepily to find Grissom rummaging through his closet, stuffing things into a duffel bag.

"Gil?"

He'd looked up from his bag, his eyes showing a flash of something she couldn't quite decipher. He'd sat on the edge of the bed watching her pull the sheets to her chest, looking worried.

"There's been a plane crash out west, and they need me..." He had said, fading out in the end. They'd stared at each other for a long moment. Then the silence was pierced by the shrill ring of her cell phone. She'd picked it up and answered with her last name.

"Yeah, I heard. Nick can't go?" Then after a few moments of silence, "Yeah, I'll be ready. Bye." She had shut the phone and grabbed Grissom's extra large LVPD shirt that was lying on the floor, and pulled it over her head, getting out of bed. Then she'd proceeded to saunter over to him and surround his waist with her slender arms.

"Well, looks like we're going on a road trip."

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And that was how Gil Grissom and Sara Sidle had ended up on their way towards the California border. They sat in the SUV; Grissom in the driver's seat, Sara in the passenger's seat. Silence filled the vehicle -- something that both parties had mutually decided was not awkward, more comfortable. They were often happy to be in the presence of the other, not saying a word, but just being _together._ It had always been like that, their motto being: "The unspoken words are the most meaningful."

They had been together since the "incident" of their co-worker and mutal friend, Nick Stokes. In the aftermath of his kidnapping, one thing led to another, and they had ended up as a couple. Grissom and Sara had decided that keeping their relationship under wraps for the time-being was probably the best thing, because if the dayshit Supervisor at CSI heard about their supervisor/subordinate relationship, one (or quite possibly both) could lose their job.

So as they navigated the winding roads of the Seirra Nevada Mountains, they were free to be themselves. As they rounded a particularly sharp curve, Grissom's hand reached across the gap between the seats to squeeze Sara's leg and stay there. She looked out the window and down the slope of the mountain a little, giving her a clear view of a jagged scar that had been cut into the trees where the plane had crashed. Sara was shocked at the destruction she saw. Great pieces of metal lay twisted and ripped like paper. Smoke still rose from the wreckage, fire that hadn't yet been smothered from the wee hours of the morning.

The debris field covered at least a mile, the ugly effects of destruction a painful contrast to the warm red and yellows of the trees and moungtains that surrounded it. Sara swallowed audibly and grimaced. She hadn't she taken the time to realized exactly what this job would entail.

Two minutes later, Grissom pulled the SUV into Sugar Pine Point, a nearby campsite that had been hastily transformed to suit the needs of a disaster. It was obvious that the OEP had been there already. The OEP -- the Office of Emergency Preparedness, which runs the NDMS, the National Disaster Medical Systems, is the U.S.'s means of disaster recovery when help was needed. The crash had only happened at about 2 or 3 am. that morning, but emergency response units were there in full force.

Sara stared out the window at large tents that had been hastily thrown up, each with a different purpose; a makeshift shelter, hospital, or lab. Refrigerated trucks were just arriving. These would likely serve as temporary morgues while anthropologists and coroners ID'd the recovered bodies. Fire trucks, ambulances, police cruisers...it was the kind of thing people would hope never to live to see -- a disaster scene.

They approached a canopy where a man handed them two orange volunteer vests labeled NDMS, a few provisions in a backpack each, and a tent.

"Just one?" Grissom had asked him. The man shrugged.

"We need as many as we got…sorry."

Not that Grissom minded at all...but it would look entirely unprofessional; sleeping in an enclosed space with his coworker, a female one at that. But then again, it wasn't like anyone up here cared. It was way too busy and hectic for speculation. There was work to be done and grim work at that.

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Sara had the tent up in five minutes. Although Grissom had tried to help, he found that Sara was a bit more experienced than he was at tent-pitching. By the time he'd fished out and read the instructions, half of his new temporary home was standing before him, Sara's slim figure flitting around it like a bird building a nest.

"Is it just me, or is there some weird feeling around here?" She asked when she was finished, sitting on a picnic table. Ever since they'd arrived, she couldn't shake the air of heaviness around her. People bustled everywhere, doing various jobs and looking quite shell-shocked to be honest, and the atmosphere was anything but cheerful.

"Disaster scenes always feel like this. It's hard on everyone," Grissom explained. He didn't tell her, but he'd been sort of worried about Sara working a scene such as this. It was hard work, emotionally maybe more than physically. He knew her – she took cases hard, and if she wasn't careful she'd get sucked in and get upset.

"Promise me, Sara…if you need a break, you'll take one?"

"Yeah," Sara lied. She knew she'd work as hard as she could to bring closure to as many people as possible, and her body wasn't going to stop her…

But it wasn't her body Grissom was worried about. He knew that she wasn't prepared for what she was going to see. No one ever was. He also knew that there was no way he could prepare her for it, which just about broke his heart.

Just then, a man in dark glasses drove up in a State Trooper truck. He took off his glasses and stared at Grissom. He stared back. _Damnit. _

"Culpepper." Grissom said curtly, nodding to the FBI agent. He couldn't stand the man. He was an FBI agent who had once decided that he could just flounce into the Vegas Crime Lab and tell everyone what to do, just because he was from Quantico...the number _one _lab in America, as he so happily liked to remind Grissom. He'd even used Sara as bait to catch the 'Strip Strangler', a dangerous serial killer.

"_Special Agent _Culpepper," The aging blond man corrected, "Good to see you again Dr. Grissom, Ms. Sidle."

He nodded to her. She nodded back. It was funny how people involved in criminalistics did that. She remembered the man. He was a sleaze ball if she ever saw one. Somehow he'd gotten her to volunteer herself as bait in that case a few years back..._Grissom hadn't been too happy about that, _she thought.

"Get in." He commanded, and the two begrudgingly did so, Grissom's eyes shooting daggers at the back of Culpepper's head.

Culpepper explained that NDMS had split up into groups to search through and investigate the crash site. Each group had ten to twenty members and was responsible for certain areas of the site. Each also had a leader, him being the head/supervisor of Group 15.

"You two are the last in my group, and if you need anything or some advice, you report to me. Got it?" Culpepper rambled, "There are anthropologists and coroners around, as well as paramedics, cops, and the FBI, of course, so just ask if you need help..."

"I've done this before, Culpepper," Grissom replied tersly. Sara, sitting beside him, could feel waves of angry heat emitting from him.

"Sure...but the lady might not have before." He replied, turning in his seat to look at Sara. Her eyebrow peaked and she looked at Grissom, swearing that she could see storm clouds brewing in his normally clear blue eyes. He wasn't happy -- she knew because he had that look he got whenever he had a run-in with a serial killer or something.

Before anything else could be said, the truck pulled to the side of a gravel road clogged with EMS vehicles and cars and trucks. Culpepper got out of the car and signaled for them to follow him and disappeared into the forest, following a freshly beaten path through the trees. Newly curled leaved crinkled underfoot. Sara and Grissom walked slightly behind him, just out of earshot.

"Calm down, Grissom," Sara said quietly, her hand on his arm. His eyebrow twitched and his mouth formed a thin grimace.

"I am calm. Right now I'd like to be hitting that guy's head off a tree, but I'm not. And I'm not going to, because I'm perfectly _calm,_" Grissom replied, almost sarcastically. He certainly wasn't looking forward to be stuck under this guy the whole time. He hated him more than he hated Ecklie, and that was saying something.

"Grissom. Listen to me -- he's the Super, there's nothing you can do," Sara said, trying to help, but just making him angrier.

"Yeah, but he's also a sneaky asshole. This is gonna be hell...the man hates me."

"He doesn't hate you--" Sara started, trying to ease Grissom's apparent annoyance.

"Oh, and of course he likes you..." He muttered back.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Let's just talk about this later, okay?" He said quickly, regretting his words. Right now they needed to focus on what was important -- their job here. And they didn't need to be angry with each other, because having each other was probably the best thing they had.

**To be continued...**

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a/n: yes, after many, MANY, revisions, this chapter is finally done. (runs off to write chapter three)

(runs back) "dont forget to review!" (runs off again)


	3. Aftershock

a/n: And here is chapter three, along with some well-awaited GSR. Sorry I had to make you wait two long chapters for it, but it's here. Oh, and this chapter is a little gory by the way, so you can skip over the death details if you like. But if you're squeamish, then why watch CSI? lol. anyway, here it is. A big (big big big!) thanks to my beta and humourous friend, **TroddenBlack **for her ideas, corrections, and suggestions...and because she lets me read ahead on hers. ha.

note: if youre confused, read the a/n at the bottom :) thanks.

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**Chapter Three: Aftershock**

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**_"I'll tap into the water, try and bring my share,  
Try to bring more, more than I can handle..."_**

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_

Grissom walked along the edge of the ridge, struggling to keep his balance. He caught sight of something flesh-colored hidden under a piece of sheet metal. Bending, he lifted a corner of the metal to find a hand nestled in the leaves scattered on the ground. A grim look formed upon his lips as he pulled away the rest of the metal. He'd found his first victim – or part of it. The arm had been severed at the bicep.

Unfortunately, he'd taken part in this kind of thing more than once. He'd even headed a few small ones. Mass scenes; many bodies, many grueling hours, many pieces of evidence that may not even be evidence until everything was pieced together...it could be days, or even weeks until everything was finished.

He snapped a few pictures of the arm, then set a marker near it, labeling the information; his name, location, and time. He sighed and stood back up; knowing that this day was going to be a long one. He walked for another few yards, picking among forest fauna and flora and fuselage from the plane.

He wondered how Sara was getting on. To be honest, he was worried sick about her. He knew that if she was seeing anything like what he'd just seen, she'd be pretty torn up. Granted, she had learned good outward control of her emotions, he knew that no one could really conquer the pain that death caused inside.

Grissom was also learning, however, that having Sara in his life as more than just a coworker was dulling that pain. She'd brought so much more light back to his life than he could have imagined possible. He knew that whenever a case was getting to him bad, Sara would be there for him. He'd share dinner with her, talking about normal things. Then he'd kiss her and they'd wander off to his bedroom. And when it was all done, he'd tell her everything that was bothering him. And as he was talking, he watched her sleep, knowing that she'd never really know what he had said to her.

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Sara closed her eyes hard, sucking her lips in and biting down. When she opened them, they were still there. The debris field stretched out before her, after her, around her. Flags and markers stood where bodies and pieces of them had been found. They were yet to find a survivor, but as the lady working near her had said, it was still early on in the aftermath of the crash.

She'd lost track of Grissom an hour ago, immersed in her task. So far she'd found a finger, presumably a man's leg, and part of a hand. As sad as their fate was, Sara was glad that she'd only found the parts of people. This way, without the whole body, it was harder to imagine them as living, breathing people with loved ones. Loved ones who would never see them again…She shook the images out of her head and continued on, clinging on to that stream of hope she had; the possibility, however small, that she might find a survivor.

Her common sense told her that no one could possibly have survived this. Her conscience told her that she had to keep believing. Her legs told her that this strenuous hiking on the mountain was killing her. Her brain, the most stubborn thing in her, told her just to keep going. So, as muddled in self argument as she was, she trudged on in her sad task, scribbling down markers and taking pictures.

A few minutes later, she was surprised to hear a flurry of movement a few yards away in the trees. That woman she'd been talking to earlier had been over there. Sara quickly made her way over to where she had heard the sound. She heard great gasps as she saw the woman's familiar orange vest.

"Hey! You okay?" She called out to her. She was leaning against a boulder, her hands over her chest. A State Trooper hat covered her frizzy brown hair, giving Sara the impression that this lady probably wasn't used to dealing with deat. _More like speeding tickets and gun possession up here in the Boonies, _Sara thought. But she knew that whatever this Trooper had seen probably wasn't pretty. The lady's chest continued to heave, and one pale finger came up to point ahead of her.

Sara's gaze followed the finger to a large tree, one side of it blackened by smoke and fire. About ten feet up, Sara spotted a sneaker lodges between two branches. The Nike symbol was just visible. _Oh God, Oh God, _She thought. Bile threatened to come up, but Sara swallowed it back down to the knot of pain growing in her chest. Taking very slow steps Sara walked a few feet to the left, confirming that what her brain had been jumping to was correct.

The shoe belonged to a foot, which connected to a leg. That leg was connected to another leg, and a body, which was dangling from the tree. A piece of shrapnel was imbedded in the torso, another in the back of the thigh, but other than that, the body was in one piece. What was obviously disturbing was that fact that the body was swinging slowly, the face of a young man being dragged repeatedly across the bark of the tree.

Sara closed her eyes, willing it all to go away. The crash, the bodies, the pain. Her lips pursed, and she started to see spots dotting the black inside of her eyelids and her head was starting to spin. All she could hear was that terrible scraping, and the sounds of the woman apparently losing her stomach contents. Just as Sara thought she was about to join her in her regurgitation, a voice broke through her inner chaos.

"Sara…"

God, she was thankful to hear that voice. She turned to find Grissom standing a few yards away, a look of such pain on his face that she hadn't seen since Brass had been in critical condition. He set down his camera and walked towards her slowly. His hands surrounded her slender arms.

"Take a break, Sara. Take her back and I'll meet you up there in a few minutes," He said. His voice was soft and low, but Sara could hear the pain in it. No one, not even the great Grissom, could hide the emotions inflicted by such loss of life. All she did was nod to him, gently taking the woman by the shoulder, and walked back to the base, only looking back once to find Grissom sadly staring at the boy in the tree.

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As Sara neared the gravel road with the lady (who had managed to sob out that her name was Leanne) two bored-looking paramedics jumped from the back of the ambulance and tended to her. Other workers stood around, their faces blank and eyes empty – Sara thought that she likely shared that same look. Deciding that walking back to the campsite was a better remedy than anything else she could come up with, she started up the gentle slope to the main road, where even more cars cluttered the shoulder.

Looking down at her watch, she was surprised to discover that it was already almost 5:30pm. They'd gotten there at 2:00 in the afternoon. _Have I really been working for that long? _He wondered. Suddenly she realized how hungry she was, but she didn't feel like eating. The forgotten ache in her legs returned, but she kept walking along the road.

She came across that bend in the road where the debris field could be seen. TV cameramen jostled for the perfect shot, while off to the side, a cluster of people stood. As she neared the people on her way back to the campsite, she could hear that familiar sound. That sound that she hated the most – the sound of mourners. Crying, confusion, chaos. Women and men both wept; mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, sons, daughters, friends…the people who may have lost a loved one.

A priest walked among them, trying to calm them. Some were breaking down, others barely keeping it together. Some clung to others, a desperate cry for safety in the midst of pandemonium. Some were on cell phones, frantically talking. Some were shouting, channeling their hurt and pain as belligerence. Sara knew it all too well. Sadly, she continued on her way, wondering if that boy in the tree belonged to any of the people here, let with nothing to do but wait until they got that sad, sad news that he hadn't made it.

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Grissom walked had through Sugar Pine Point, and having not found Sara at the campsite or anywhere else for that matter, had begun his exploration. He had a slight idea of where she would be, so he went by the NDMS tent to grab a few provisions. He saw the first sign, and _bingo, _he knew that she was there. It took him five minutes to get there, and when he did, it took him less than two to find her.

The sun was on its way down, and its orange glow made Sara's dark brown hair glow as well. She was sitting on an outcropping of rock, just off the lookout path. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, and she stared out across the sparkling waters of Lake Tahoe towards her once home in California. Grissom walked quietly up behind her, thinking about how exceptionally beautiful she looked there. Mentally, he tucked away that little picture in his mind.

"Hey," He said softly. She didn't turn around. He took a seat beside her, handing her a white Styrofoam cup filled with soup. She accepted.

"Thought you might be hungry, so I brought you something," he explained. She finally looked at him, one corner of her mouth rising into a cheerless smile. Setting it down beside her, she played with the sleeve of her sweater. Grissom just waited for her to talk, his elbows on his knees.

"I…I didn't know how hard this was gonna be, Grissom," She managed to say after a moment, her voice smaller than he'd ever heard it. His large hand took hers, but he didn't look at her. He just stared out across the lake below.

"I know. I tried to prepare you…but really, there was nothing I could do…"

Grissom's thumb made comforting strokes across the latex-smoothed surface of her hand. They turned to look at each other; her brown eyes telling the sad story of what she'd seen too late to prepare herself for it, his blue ones saying how sorry he was that there was nothing he could do to make her forget what she'd seen.

"Its okay, Griss. Anyway, anything you would have done to stop me from coming wouldn't have worked," she said. His shoulders lifted and fell quickly, which was probably something like a chuckle. They fell silent for a moment, Grissom's hand still around hers.

"You know, Sara…these people--" Grissom started, meaning to talk about the victims.

"Stop." Sara said abruptly. Grissom was startled at her interruption and stared at her.

"Sorry. I--I just don't think I'm ready to talk about them yet…I haven't even had enough time to think about them," she explained. Grissom nodded understandingly, his hand squeezing hers in that way he had that said "whenever you're ready." He leaned in a little closer to her, one of his hands resting on the ground behind her. Slowly, she rested her head against his shoulder, feeling some of the pain fade away from her.

"How did you know I was here, anyway?" She asked after a moment, feeling bad that she hadn't waited for him, or at least gone somewhere that he could have easily found her.

"I just knew," he replied softly. He knew that this was beating her up. Hard. He also knew that one of her secrets to calm down after a hard case was to take a shower, go for a bath – anything that involved water. Water relaxed her, cleansed her, he surmised. He remembered the night not to long ago, when they had sat up watching the rain on their night off. That's all they had done. They had sat together in his townhouse, snuggled up in a chair, just watching it pour. So when he'd seen the sign for the lake lookout, he'd known where she'd gone.

So now, they sat together again, sipping the soup and watching the sun go down over Lake Tahoe. Grissom had one leg folded, so that she could lean against his chest. He placed a kiss in her hair and set his chin on the top of her head softly. And once the sun had almost slipped out of view, he helped her up, and they set off towards the path.

**To be continued...**

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- a/n: review, pretty please. all this work and no comments make an unhappy author!

By the way...to clear up a few things -- I know you may be thinking; "hey, why the hell are Sara and Grissom investigating an airplane crash?" Well, the answer is, they're not. They're there as part of NDMS to search for bodies and possibly rescue. And if that still seems a little silly, just go along with it. Imagination's half the fun, right? Thanks for all your reviews so far! Keep reading!


	4. Tremors

a/n: yes, chapter four has arrived! This one took a while to work out what I wanted to say, but it came out fine i hope. Especially thanks to my humourous beta, **TroddenBlack.**(Grissom the Silent goes Grissom the Violent...lmao)

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**Chapter Four: Tremors**

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**_"The light has fallen amongst the living and the dying,  
And I'll try to hold it in..."  
_**

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"Grissom! Sidle!" came the sharp tone from the road as Grissom and Sara walked towards it, "What the hell..."

At the sound of the voice, Grissom's hand had vanished from around hers; the barrier between Sara and the pain surrounding her dissolving into thin air.

Grissom suddenly remembered that he'd neglected to check in with 'Sargeant Culpepper' before he and Sara had taken their temporary hiatus. One word clogged his brain: _Shit. _He looked up to find the aging blonde man walking rapidly toward them, looking very much like a freight train bearing down on a deer.

"I've been looking all over for you!" He was yelling, his usually pale, wrinkled face turning redder and redder by the moment, "Listen _Grissom, _you may run that damn Lab in Vegas, but here, _I_ call the shots!"

"I should have checked in, Culpepper, but--" Grissom started, a certain callousness in his voice that Sara wasn't surprised to hear. Grissom hated the man with a passion.

"I'm not here to baby you and look for you when you get lost; I'm here to do my job. And if that interferes with your little outing here, then you can get the hell off of this mountain and back to that shit-hole you call a lab!" Culpepper said vehemently, his hands waving wildly in from of his body. Sara half expected him to go into convilsions at any second.

"And what job is that, Culpepper?" Grissom said, finally bursting after a moment of trying to hold on the comment. Culpepper's eyes formed two tiny slats in his balding head.

"Hey! Hey…" Sara spoke up for the first time from her place beside Grissom before Culpepper could answer. She had to say something before the two men went for the other's throat. "We've all had a long day, okay? Let's just get back to doing what we're here for."

"What we're here for? Well then, you two better go off and admire the view, because it looks like that's what you're here for to me!" Culpepper shot back.

"I needed a break." Sara said quietly, though her voice was defendant. She couldn't help the fleeting thought that maybe all of this was her fault. She should have controlled herself when she found that boy…

"Oh, you needed a break," Culpepper spat, mockingly sympathetic, "Yeah well you know what? We all need a break, but you apparently have privileges to run off whenever you want without telling anyone just because--" He paused, his voice changing from sympathetic to dripping with contempt, "--you're a _woman_."

That was it. As soon as he said it, Culpepper had known he'd gone too far. So he stood there, waiting and breathing heavily as Grissom seemed to tower before him, his broad shoulders and thin mouth seeming all the more menacing.

Grissom let a cold moment pass before speaking, an interrogation-room-trick from Brass. His dark blue eyes threatened to swallow Culpepper whole and one eyebrow was cocked in a 'you wanna piece of this' look. His thumb ran over the knuckles of his left hand, something he'd always done when nervous or aggravated…in this case, definitely the latter.

Somewhere in the trees, a bug of some hummed a sad tune in the evening darkness. To Sara, it sounded eerily like the first few notes of 'Taps'. _How appropriate_.

"You listen to this, Culpepper, and listen well," Grissom started after what seemed like forever, "That's a hard job out there. There's people out there working hard, comforting victims' families, finding and ID-ing bodies, trying to figure out just what the hell went wrong here that this many people had to die," Grissom put a hard emphasis on the word 'die', his voice getting increasingly louder with each sentence.

"It takes a lot of strength to do what we're doing. There are people out there who are dead. Real people. And when you see them, it hurts. It screws up your mind, and you can't think straight. And if you were out in that crash site helping along with us other hundred people, you'd know that. So don't think, for one _damn_ second that she's weak, Culpepper -- don't make that mistake."

The unlikely trio stood in the deepening dusk, no one daring to say another word. Grissom's eyes never wavered from Culpepper's, and Sara was totally amazed at how angry Grissom was. Sure, she'd seen him pissed off her fair share of times, but this…this was different. She had the sense that maybe Grissom was starting to channel that pain from their job into anger. But now that he'd released that, she knew that there was an unlikely chance of it happening again any time soon.

A siren wailed somewhere out of view on the mountain, breaking the natural sounds of the evening. Grissom bit down on the inside of his lip for a moment, before slipping his hand down to Sara's lower back.

"There's work to be done," he said quietly. And then he brushed past Culpepper, guiding Sara back to the place where she wanted to go to so badly to help, but hated to be at.

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Something snapped in the forest. A bird stopped its call to cock its head to the side, looking down through the darkness at the forest floor. Its beady black eyes couldn't place the source of the sound. It hopped down a few branches, figuring that it was save that high up. A few seconds later, there was an outburst of movement, and something came hurtling out of the bushes, causing the little bird to take flight.

The thing charged aimlessly through the underbrush, looking wild and uncontrolled. Spooked, definitely. Running, running, the thing dodged trees, not knowing where it was going. Something snagged its foot and down it went, tumbling over itself down a steep slope, its limbs flailing to find some kind of firm hold on the ground. It reached a large boulder, and it slumped there, breathing labouredly. Then, a cry of anguish erupted from the thing, echoing in the surrounding mountains and chilling every creature to the bone that was unfortunate enough to hear it.

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When Grissom and Sara got back to the crash site, the hubbub of activity still raged on. Klieg lights had been set up, and helicopters with searchlights flew by, illuminating the hillside and surrounding area with blue-ish light. The search for bodies still continued, although the bodies near the primary crash site had started to be recovered. They would continue on their search for bodies, because if they didn't get there first, the elements sure would.

Walking between shadow and light, orange-vested men and women searched relentlessly for a square mile. Among them were Grissom and Sara, reminded of the time they had been searching in the desert for a corpse. This time though, they were searching for more than one. Way more. And that slight hint of hope for a survivor was growing fainter and fainter as night fell and the search went on.

Grissom, much calmer now, picked his way through rocky terrain and underbrush, keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of flesh. He had to admit, it was getting easier now that putrefaction and decay were setting in. Grissom could smell out the remains, his senses unfortunately used to that sickly sweet smell of death. _The nose knows what the nose knows..._He thought.

He was yet to find a whole corpse after the boy in the tree. All that was left was fragments and limbs. Pieces of people that could have lived without; a leg, an arm…now they'd never get the chance to try.

His eyes and nose caught it at the same time – he'd found yet another piece of the puzzle. He'd found so many pieces that he didn't know if they even belonged to the same puzzle. He caught what he determined was the remains of an airline seat in the beam of his flashlight.

Squatting, he snapped a few photos of the visible flesh, but was unable to determine what part of the anatomy it was. Slowly moving the seat over, he closed his eyes and shook his head.

It was the torso of a woman; lying face down in the dirt and rocks. Thick brown hair tumbled over the bare back and around the head. Legs were no where to be seen. One arm was thrown over her head, the other lay by her side. Reaching out with a gloved hand, Grissom touched the pale skin of the young woman, the cold sting of death filling him with sorrow.

Her skin was pale and flawless, just like Sara's. He looked over his shoulder at her now, silently watching making her way through the trees, her slender form moving like a moonlit dancer. And watching her at that moment, he reverently wished never to have to feel her skin as cold as that.

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When Sara came back from the showers, Grissom had their sleeping bags set out. One was spread out on the floor of the tent, the other spread out on top of that. Apparently, she wouldn't be sleeping alone that night.

She had no objections whatsoever.

Crawling into the tent, she kicked off her shoes and then zipped the tent back up, ready to finally let herself relax. She flopped back on top of both sleeping bags with a sigh, feeling Grissom's eyes on her.

She knew he wanted her to talk. She also knew that if she started to talk, she'd break down. And if there was one thing she hated, it was breaking down in front of Grissom. Although they were together now, she still had the feeling that she had to prove something to him.

_I won't break down, I won't break down..._She repeated the familiar mantra in her head.

Grissom watched her with soft eyes, the bare skin of her arms reminding him of the torso lady. Suddenly, he had the urge to touch her, make sure that her skin was still warm. Again he found himself wanting her, wanting to prove to himself that her blood still flowed strong beneath his fingertips like he had done after so many hard cases. Like he'd wanted to so many times before they were even together…

Stretching out next to her, he propped himself up on one elbow, the other hand reaching out to capture her face in a soft caress.

"Sara..." He started quietly. They both knew what was coming next. Sara bit the inside of her lip. "You have to talk sometime, Sara. You can't just keep it all bottled up." The truth was, he was feeling a little responsible for her pain. He couldn't help feeling that he hadn't protected her well enough. _I was the idoit who brought her here after all, _he thought. Her hand reached up to cover his.

"I'm dealing with it, Grissom," She assured him. It wasn't so assuring. He lay down fully beside her to, watching as her fingers filled the spaces between his. For some reason he loved watching their hands fit together. There was something captivating about how perfectly they assumed the familiar positions.

Grissom wanted her. He _really_ wanted her. In fact, ever since he'd seen that dead woman, he'd had a terrible ache in this chest for her. He wanted to feel her skin searing hot; he wanted to know that she was alive...He wanted to feel something other than pain. And most of all, he wanted to forget.

The ache in his chest was stronger than he'd ever felt for anyone.

But it wasn't fair to her. He couldn't just use her for his own wants, especially when she was in her emotional state. She wasn't even ready to talk to him. So he settled for holding her close, and just waiting it out until she was ready.

"You still awake, Honey?" he said quietly into the dark.

"Yeah, unfortunately," came Sara's voice from next to him.

"Good." He slipped between the covers, and she did the same. Then he pressed his body up against hers, spooning her. His arms surrounded her slender body, pulling her close. Her skin still felt warm from her shower, making Grissom thankful that it wasn't as cold as the torso lady's. He could even feel her heartbeat faintly, every beat he felt mending his own heart a little.

She made a low sound, picking up his hand and placing a small kiss on it. Grissom put his chin in the crook between her neck and her shoulders, his warm breath ticking her skin. And after a while of listening to her breathing, Grissom felt her fall asleep. He assumed his regular custom of talking to her sleeping form although this time it wasn't as regular. He hadn't made love to her although he desperately wanted to. And this time, he only murmured two words;

"I'm sorry."

**To be continued...**

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a/n: Please review! ... and be sure to stick around because it only gets better!


	5. Floodgates

a/n: chapter 5! this chapter is pretty much all Grissom/Sara interaction, so a lot of you will be happy, I suspect. Or maybe a little mad by the end, but you'll see what happens. enjoy! **TroddenBlack, **thanks again for all you help...you pointed out some good stuff in this one. Thanks to all of you for reading!

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**Chapter Five: Floodgates**

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**_"Stray from the short line on this short run..."  
_**

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Grissom awoke the next morning to the twittering of birds and the buzz of tree bugs; the sounds of a mountain morning. Exhaling a long breath, he rolled further to his left, hoping to find Sara next to him. When he found nothing but excess sleeping bag, his eyes flickered open, wondering where she'd gone. The smell of her familiar soap lingered on her pillow, and Grissom immediately missed her presence.

He unfolded himself from the small tent, shielding his eyes from the early morning sunlight. Looking around, Sara was no where to be seen. He stood in the middle of the small road in an old t-shirt and sweatpants, looking both ways for Sara. Although it was early yet, there were just too many people bustling about to see properly. He was starting to get worried. _Where the hell is she?_

He went back into the tent and changed into his jeans and t-shirt, which were more appropriate for working on a mountain. He was about to set off for the lookout when a hot cup of coffee appeared in front of his face. Accepting, he turned to find the owner of the arm that had slipped under his from behind.

She held up her coffee in a 'cheers' gesture, and Grissom could have swore he saw something reminiscent of a smile flit across Sara's face. It looked a little forced. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail under an LVPD cap, her face red and sticky looking. She was wearing a ribbed tank and a pair of Nike track pants, looking like she'd been up for a while.

"Where…?" Grissom started, squinting his eyes in question at her. He still needed his caffeine for the day. She took a sip of coffee, and looked away from him.

"I, uhh…I went running. I woke up early, and I couldn't sleep, so…" She said, her voice fading off, and her eyes glazing over as she remembered those forty minutes, just her and the country road. Alone with her thoughts, with no one to see her tears but the road, the sky, and whatever animal she come across in her excursion. Running was her release, when she could just let her anger and pain out. But no matter how hard she went, she couldn't release it all.

She would run and run, sometimes not knowing if the salty liquid on her cheeks were sweat or tears. That morning, she'd woken up in Grissom's arms. She knew she should just talk to him, but she wasn't ready. She just wasn't. One day…one day she'd just talk to him, tell him everything. She wouldn't need to run.

"I brought you coffee," She heard her voice say to him, pretending to be cheery.

"Thank you," Grissom said, one hand gently finding her elbow. He leaned in to kiss her rouged cheek but jumped at a loud sound from behind him. Grissom whipped around to see Culpepper sitting in the truck – Grissom wondered if he ever got out of it – with his hand on the horn. Apparently, he didn't believe in alarm clocks.

"Alright!" Culpepper yelled, dragging on the 'i', "Time to get up, people! I want you all out there by 6:30!" And with that, he drove off, his tires kicking up gravel.

Sara wondered briefly why Grissom kept his personal displays of affection to a minimum around Culpepper. After all, he'd stood up to him for her the other night. _Is it out of habit? Is he afraid Ecklie would find out from Culpepper? Or his he just scared that he might spilt us up? ... One thing's for sure -- getting the answer out of him'll be a bitch._

Shrugging, she left his side to get their vests from the tent. With Sara no longer next to him, Grissom leaned against a picnic table, sipping his coffee. His blue eyes seemed void of energy as mentally prepared himself for the day ahead.

Little did he know that he could have never prepared himself - nor Sara - for that day's events. What happened that day was something he'd never forget. He never saw it coming, and he never saw it go.

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After a few hours of hard work, Grissom, Sara, and a few other volunteers were on a lunch break. They had an hour off (site rule – you work for over 3 hours straight, you take an hour off) so a few had decided to run into town for lunch. Grissom and Sara couldn't help but feel slightly antisocial, so they sat alone on the patio overlooking the lake.

Grissom watched her intently as she absent-mindedly nibbled on her fries and stared at a balloon flying over the lake. That ache crept up on him again, like a lion readying to pounce. Biting the inside of his lip, he toyed with the fringe of his napkin. _God, it's hard not to want her when so much of you does, _his brain cells told him. He ignored them as best as he could. It clearly wasn't working.

"Grissom?" came her voice. He hadn't really been expecting her to talk. She'd been so uncharacteristically quiet lately, like she was afraid that if she opened her mouth everything would just fall out. Although Grissom wanted her to talk so she could get rid of what was obviously hurting her, he couldn't help but dread it. _After all, I'm not the best kind of guy in the feelings department,_ he thought.

"Talk to me," She said. He just stared at her confusedly. "About anything. Tell me some random piece of information like you always do. Just…say something."

"Okay…" He started, thinking desperately of something to say. Normally, something would have just blurted out, but now…now he had to think hard. "…Lake Tahoe is so deep that its waters could cover the whole of California in fourteen inches of water."

"Really…" Sara said. But she couldn't disguise the monotone of her voice. It wasn't working, nothing was. No matter how hard she tried, nothing could take her mind from the bodies she'd found. _Especially the boy in the tree, _she thought to herself. She almost wanted to slap herself upside the head and scream 'shut up', but she was doubting that that'd work either.

She knew Grissom wanted her to talk, but she couldn't bring herself to do it.

"Sara, this isn't working," Grissom said softly, voicing her thoughts, "Just talk to me. I don't care how long it takes, or how silly you sound. I don't care if you get upset, honey. Just…talk."

"Griss…I-I can't…" Sara stuttered, the tips of her fingers playing along the rim of her coffee cup.

"Please," Grissom said, he voice low and soft. He begged her to talk to him because he knew that if she did she'd feel so much better. His hand reached out to touch hers, his thumb sweeping across her skin. She was silent for a moment, watching Grissom's hand envelope hers as it had when she'd told him about her family. She looked out over the lake, thinking about her old home not too far from here…But Vegas was her home now. And Grissom was the closest she had to family. Taking a deep breath, she opened her mouth, and it all spilled out.

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The waiter, seeing that Sara was obviously upset, had stayed away from the table. So Grissom slapped down a twenty and some change and then stood up, his compassionate blue eyes upon Sara. Her pale face still seemed beautiful even when streaked with tears. He helped her out of her seat, and they started off towards the parking lot.

Sara's breathing became a little calmer, and the tears stopped coming. They reached the SUV, and Grissom opened the door for her. But before he could go around to the other side, Sara grabbed his hand. Now that she'd gotten it out, it was like he'd lifted so much weight from her shoulders. How he knew it would work, she didn't know. It wasn't so much that the pain was gone; more the fact that she now knew how to deal with it. He'd told her that he didn't care how upset she got…and she knew that he was telling the truth.

"Thank you…" Watery brown met intense blue, and Grissom could no longer hold back the ache in his chest. Some remote part of his brain yelled _stop! _But his libido muffled it out as his mouth descended on hers, catching her by surprise. But the kiss was not unwelcome; it was like someone had opened the floodgates. The kiss deepened as his hand found her jaw line. The next thing Sara knew, Grissom had her pressed up against the car, his lips relentlessly attacking hers.

After what seemed like a while, he pulled away, only to catch his breath and take siege on her neck. She was almost blown away by his intensity. His hands were on her hips, and she could feel his breath on her ear. He moaned her name, pushing her tighter against the door. And just as his mouth opened to tell her, tell her how much he wanted her, he pulled away. Sara watched in confusion as his deep blue eyes blinked hard, like he was just realizing where he was. He was breathing a little heavily, his cheeks red.

"What? What is it, Grissom?" She asked him. He broke her gaze and quickly shuffled around to the driver's door, leaving her standing. She got in the car to silence as Grissom started the engine. It was only when Grissom was pulling out of the parking lot that she noticed Culpepper standing next to the doors of the restaurant.

**To be continued...**

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a/n: DUN DUN DUN...consider Culpepper as an omen. Some sad stuff might be upcoming shortly...--extremely stressed hint--. it gets good! please keep readinnngg. and don't worry...after all the angst and sadness it'll likely end up happy...


	6. Discovery

a/n: whoo. wow, this chapter was a little hard to write, but i got it done. and i have to give major props to **TroddenBlack **for helping me out with the zillions of errors in this one. thank you! thanks to all you gusy who've read this...including Vickie and her mother (and father). you make me feel special! (and no, the creature is NOT a crazed goat, FYI). keep reading!

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**Chapter Six: Discovery**

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**_"Hearts break, hearts mend, love still hurts..."_**

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Grissom didn't speak to her as he pulled out of the driveway. Nor on the drive back to Sugar Pine Point. He didn't even speak to her as they walked side by side down the gravel logging road. The path was now sickeningly familiar and had been well beaten with the reluctant footfalls of workers.

Just before they reached the opening in forest, Sara stepped in front of him, blocking his way. As she did so, she saw something flicker in his eyes, the same thing that she'd seen fifteen minutes ago at the restaurant. And she wanted to know what it was.

"What was that all about?" Sara demanded. It was quite clear to Grissom that he wasn't getting out of this situation. He concentrated on something over her shoulder for fear of looking her in the eye and getting that frightening pang in his chest again.

"What was what?" He asked, playing dumb. Obviously, it didn't fool Sara. He hadn't expected it to.

"Back there. One minute you have me pinned to the car, the next you won't even talk to me. Is this all about Culpepper?" Sara persisted. Grissom pursed his lips. _More about me than him. Actually, more about the fact that I want you more than I've ever wanted anything and I'm going crazy trying not to, and Culpepper is just making the situation more complicated! _Grissom thought.

"Not completely…" was his cryptic answer.

"Then how come every time Culpepper's around you make the extra effort to keep at least a foot away from me?" She asked. Some little part of his brain squeaked out that she was even more attractive when she was angry. Grissom's left thumb started to twitch over his knuckles.

"It's complicated, honey," he answered truthfully. But that wasn't good enough for her – Sara wanted answers.

"You know, Grissom, I'm sick of having to goad answers from you. Why can't you just answer a simple question?" She demanded.

_Because every time I talk to you my brain goes on autopilot while it fights with my heart…_Grissom's subconscious answered.

"For one thing, he could tell Ecklie. And I don't know about you, but I'm not ready to tackle that particular hurdle just yet," He said. It was funny; the difference between what his subconcious said and what come out of his mouth.

Grissom didn't want Culpepper to split them up. He was pretty sure that he'd go crazy if he didn't have Sara around to anchor him. Not being able to look up and see her when things got crazy out there…he couldn't stand it. Sometimes it was like walking the line between life and death; and Sara was the only thing keeping him on the right side.

…Not being able to hold her at night to find solace in the fact that he had at least one thing in the world that he cared about. That he, like many of the bodies he'd found, also had a loved one…even if it was only one.

_I couldn't do it…_

Of course, he wouldn't tell her that. Seeing as that nasty little situation was now entirely possible, Grissom freaked. He freaked when he saw Culpepper. He freaked when Sara asked him why he freaked in the first place. And he was freaking on the inside because of the pain of seeing all those dead bodies.

_It's a freaking freak-fest…_Grissom thought. Just as Sara was about to retort, Culpepper's truck came bounding down the gravel logging road. Grissom side-stepped past her and headed off into the forest, leaving Sara a little hurt that she'd just finished talking to him (by his request) and he wouldn't even talk to her in return.

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Sara looked up at the sun, wiping at her forehead with her wrist. Although it was fall, it was still warm around the California border. She put her hands on her hips, looking around. The crash site had bee picked over by the various groups of people; the people finding and marking the victims, the people entering them into a database, and the people recovering their remains. By now, most of the debris field was clear of vvictims, spare a few.

The last two parts to be searched for bodies was the two wings of the plane. That's where she was now. Hopefully, after today she wouldn't have to be searching through metal only to find bloody pieces of creation. She was thankful. But as she looked around, she noticed something blue through the trees.

_A tarp from the cargo hold, maybe? _Was her first guess, but then she remembered that she was in the area where the wing fragments had landed. _Why would a tarp from the cargo hold be over here?_ She wondered. Setting down the marker next to the foot she'd just found, she wandered over to the blue thing.

"Grissom!" she called. He sensed the urgency in her voice and appeared to her left a moment later. She pointed to the tent, and he looked. When he looked back at her, she knew he was wondering the same thing; _Had a plane really crashed over someone's campsite? And if so, why where they out in the middle of nowhere?_

Grissom pulled out his walkie-talkie to request Culpepper's presence at the scene. Sara inched closer to it, noticing a fallen tree just behind it.

"Grissom you'd better look at his…" She exhaled. He peered over her shoulder and saw that there was a woman pinned between a huge slab of airplane wing and the fallen tree. Her arms hung limp in front of her, her legs and lower body entangled in the tree. Sara turned to Grissom, whose mouth hung open. _Is this really happening? _He began to wonder. _Or are we just hallucinating?_

"Should I mark it?" Sara asked. Grissom nodded.

"It's a body in a crash site…sounds like a candidate to me," he answered. Sara grabbed her kit and started scribbling her info on a marker. Grissom took his cell phone out to talk to Culpepper again, who was reluctant to "traipse three miles through the woods for nothing." Grissom calmly told him that it was only half a mile from the highway and that the situation was definitely not 'nothing'. Sara couldn't help but smirk. She could tell that Grissom was taking just a little bit of pleasure in the fact that he could get Culpepper into the debris field for once.

Walking around the tent, tree and body, Sara snapped pictures. First she took a picture of the tent, which had somehow been spared from too much damage. The tree had just missed it by about a foot, it's blackened bark showing signs of fire. _It must have smothered itself out, because surely the fire crews would have noticed the woman and the tent…_Sara theorized. She made sure to get lots of angles, because figuring out what happened to this unfortunate camper would probably take a while. The more pictures, the better.

Culpepper arrived in fifteen minutes, looking quite pissed off and taking long drags on a cigarette. Grissom explained how they found the woman, and Culpepper stood, watching Sara work...Much to Grissom's annoyance. Sara listened in on their conversation while she continued to photograph.

"I mean, what are the chances of a plane landing on a campsite!" Culpepper said in disbelief. White smoke curled out from his lips as he smoked. Grissom shrugged.

"Stranger things have happened…"

"I think it was planted," Culpepper theorized. Grissom narrowed his eyes, wondering just how many brain cells this guy had.

"Planted? What, someone murdered this woman and there just happened to be a plane crash where he could camouflage her as a camper? Now _that _is a stranger thing," Grissom said, amazed at the man's stupidity.

"It could have happened…" Culpepper said. He took another long drag on his cigarette. Grissom wanted to tell him to put that damn thing out. _Why the hell does he have it in the middle of a scene like this for anyway? _He wondered. But he didn't say anything. He was already in enough trouble with Culpepper – he was sure he'd be feeling his wrath after this shift.

Sara frowned, bending in front of the woman. She felt bad for this mystery woman, that she had to have such a disgrace to her memory that upon her discovery, two men stood and argued over the gruesome death itself. _What does it matter now how she ended up here? _Sara wondered. _It's not time for that now…It's time to collect evidence. _She crouched to take a picture of the woman's face.

She had pale skin and blonde hair, with a small nose. Her face was a little sooty looking, no doubt from ash and smoke from around her. The fire that had been burning on the tree had gone out before it reached the body, so she wasn't burned. Snapping the picture, she swore she saw the woman's eyes flicker from behind closed eyelids. She froze, staring at the woman's face for a few moments, drowning out the bickering from behind her. But nothing happened. She looked over her shoulder at the two men.

"…And how exactly did this well-informed murderer cut a tree and burn it so it looked exactly like it fell and pinned her to the wing? And better yet, how did she die? I don't see any gunshot wounds or ligature marks…" Grissom was saying to Culpepper, his eyebrow raised. Sara sighed and turned back to the woman.

She noticed something on the her hand. _Burn marks…_she deduced, noticing burnt flesh stuck to chunk of wing the woman was pinned to. Photographing the skin, she reached out for the her hand…

…A little part of Grissom's brain told him that Culpepper's cigarette was getting on his nerves. Then his sense of smell chimed in, telling him that he could smell fuel. His memory joined the party; _Wings of a plane…engines on the wing…engines have fuel…fuel is an accelerant…doesn't heat, fire and fuel mean, well to put it bluntly, BOOM? _

Suddenly time seemed to slow. Grissom watched as Culpepper's arm raised to take one last drag on the butt of his cigarette. A long wispy curl of smoke snaked from his mouth as his fingers readied to flick the butt to the ground. _Oh shit! _Grissom's brain screamed. But he found was unable to speak as the butt flew from Culpepper's fingers toward the ground that was probably saturated with gasoline. And if it wasn't, it was covered in dry leaves.

Sara reached out with a gloved hand to grab the woman's. When her finger's connected with the woman's wrist, she heard a loud "No!" from behind her. Her head snapped up, only to be greeted by the woman's face, her brain barely registering the fact that the woman's eyes were wide open and staring at her.

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a/n: dun dun dunnnn.

(p.s.: no matter how many times you poke me in music, frank, i won't post any earlier!)


	7. Adrenaline

a/n: (le gasp) chapter seven as entered the atmosphere, with a speed of over a gazillion light years per second. Don't be fooled at it's short-ness -- this one's gonna hit cha hard and fast, so get readyyy! (p.s., thanks to my beta, **TroddenBlack.** I deticate this chapter to you because i know you like it!)

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**Chapter Seven: Adrenaline**

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**_"Still there's talk of saving souls..."_**

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"No!" Grissom had cried out, but it had been too late; Culpepper's cigarette had already made it to the ground. It connected with the forest floor, and for a millisecond nothing happened. Then, a leaf suddenly became a small ball of fire. Culpepper just stood there, wondering what Grissom was yelling "No!" about. Then he noticed the small patch of fire growing at his feet. Cursing, he tried to stamp it out with his shoe, but the fire had grown to the diameter of a basketball.

"Grissom!" came Sara's frantic cry, and Grissom ran over to her, leaving Culpepper to put out the fire he'd started.

"Sara, we have to get out of here…the gasoline's gonna catch fire…" He said, bending down next to her. Sara stared at him, horrified.

"But we can't leave her!" Sara said, he voice tinged with adrenaline and fear. Grissom was confused for a moment, and then looked down at the woman, who blinked, her eyes glazed over. _Dead people don't blink…no shit, Sherlock. She's alive! _Grissom thought. A quick glance over his shoulder earned him the image of Culpepper attempting to smother the growing fire with his sport jacket, which was quickly catching fire, too.

"We're getting you out of here, okay?" He said to the woman. He wasn't sure if she could hear him, but he said it anyway. Shrugging off his jacket, he moved so that he was squatting next to her and placed his hands under the tree trunk.

"When I say, you pull her out, alright?" Grissom instructed. He lifted the trunk, the muscles in his forearm bulging. Smoke began to wisp through the air from the fire that Culpepper was trying in vain to extinguish, cursing the whole while.

"Pull!" Grissom said loudly, and Sara grabbed the woman under her armpits and pulled. The woman moved about three inches.

"It's not working…her legs are tangled!" Sara told him, her voice wavering. He wedged his knee under it, keeping the weight off of the woman. Sweat began to form on his forehead.

"Damnit!" He swore, looking up to see that Culpepper had gotten frustrated with his burning jacket and threw it into the underbrush, where a second fire had started from it. _What an idiot! Is he trying to get us killed! _Grissom thought to himself. The first fire was now the size of a picnic table, and growing rapidly. It had even started to creep up a pine tree…

"Culpepper! Get over here!" He yelled at the red-faced man. Culpepper -- surprisingly -- obeyed.

"Get around the other side of the tree and untangle her legs while I lift," he instructed; his voice loud, but calm. Culpepper did what he was told, not knowing what else to do.Grissom knew he had to lift the tree even higher for Culpepper to get in and untangle the woman's legs. He switched positions, so that he was next to the woman, and he placed his shoulders and back under the tree, bracing his feet on the ground.

He began to push, using his legs as a driving force. Smoke from the two growing fires had now tainted the air grey, filling his lungs with irritating smoke that made him want to cough…but he knew that if he did, he could drop the tree on the woman, possibly killing her. So he fought the urge, sweat covering his face. He watched as the original fire crept toward the edge of one of the wing's fragments. Nearby lay one of the plane's giant engines, and Grissom knew if the fire reached that engine, and it had any fuel in it, they'd be toast.

"Pull!" Culpepper yelled from the other side of the tree trunk. Sara pulled on the woman's wrists again, and this time, she slid forward across the slab of wing, landing more or less in Sara's lap. Grissom stepped forward, and the tree landed back down. _We have to get out of here…_Grissom thought to himself, now breathing in heavily, then coughing from the smoke.

He helped Sara get the woman up, noticing that the woman's leg was bleeding. Her left foot was twisted, probably broken. She'd probably need surgery to fix the wounds to her stomach and back, as well. Sara slung one of the woman's arms around her slender shoulders. That was when Grissom saw it…

"Culpepper! Help Sara get her back to base," Grissom directed. Again, Culpepper obeyed. Grissom seemed to have a greater sense of authority in such a scary situation.

"What!" Sara almost shrieked, "What about you?" Grissom silenced her with a look.

"There's something I have to do – don't worry about me. Now go!" He told her, his hand brushing quickly against hers as he walked past her. Culpepper took the woman's other arm around his shoulders, and they set off, Sara with a deep pang of anxiety for Grissom in her stomach.

_But I trust him. He won't do anything stupid…_

Grissom rounded the fallen tree, to where another wing fragment lay, but at a bit of an angle. He knelt, the blue fabric of a second clutched between his fingers. When he'd seen it, he'd clued in to the fact that someone might be inside. After all, one woman would likely not bring two tents camping by herself. Almost right away, he'd been drawn to it, like it was calling him.

Only a small bit of material was sticking out from the large piece of metal, but he groped for the zipper. Feeling the ridges of the zipper, he all but ripped it open. Its frame had been squished under the weight of the wing fragment, but the tent was in one piece. Sticking a hand inside, he felt for any sign of human life. That was when he felt the little forearm. There was someone in there. Someone small. Grissom, after a momentary coughing fit, sat his bottom on the ground, adrenaline forcing its way through his body. He put his feet up on the lip of the metal, and pushed.

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Sara and Culpepper half-dragged the unconscious woman towards the gravel road. Not long ago, her glazed eyes had closed droopily, and there was nothing Sara could do to wake her up. They had to keep going, the only solace being the woman's weak pulse. _At least she's alive…_Sara thought.

A fireman ran down the path towards them, his eyes wide, "What's going on? We saw smoke above the trees…" He started.

"There's a fire near the left wing," Culpepper informed him. The fireman nodded and ran up the path, leaving a paramedic in his wake. The paramedic took hold of the woman's legs, and the three carried her limp body to the ambulance on the gravel road. _It did have a purpose after all…_Sara thought, who had before seen the ambulance as an omen that someone was going to be hurt.

Her thoughts veered to Grissom. _Where the hell is he? _She thought, beginning to worry. She wanted to stay and wait for him to arrive, but she also wanted to go with the woman. She helped the paramedic get the woman into the ambulance and stood in the back of it, staring out across the trees.

_Damn Grissom, if you aren't back here before that engine blows..._

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The piece of metal slid off with enough force from his legs. After taking a breath, Grissom ripped open the remainder of the zipper and lifted the edge of the tent, peering in. He gasped. There, inside three little sleeping bags, lay three little bodies. Two boys and a little girl, looking so peaceful in death. Tears unexpectedly burned in his eyes as he looked upon them.

_The woman's children…_Grissom thought sadly. He reached out to touch the smallest boy's skin. It was cold. There was no way any of them could have survived. _But that woman deserves something to bury. And the fire crews will never get here in time -- that engine is gonna blow, and soon._

Knowing he couldn't possibly save them all, he reached in and scooped up the little girl, still wrapped up in her sleeping bag. He stood - smoke was now thick in the air. He hurried around the fallen tree, leaving the two others behind. He tried not to think about them and more about how he was going to get out of this alive. As he rounded the tree, he saw that the flames were licking against the plane's wing…the engine lay not two feet away.

_Run._

And he did. He ran with the little girl in her arms, her bloodied head leaving crimson splotches on his vest. Her blonde pigtails were streaked red also. He heard the explosion and he dove toward the ground, covering the little body with his own, praying to a god he didn't know that he would live to see another day. Live to return this little girl to her mother.

Live to see Sara.

**To Be Continued...**

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a/n: hahahhah. evil cliffhanger. Buttt, you can blame this especially evil one on **TroddenBlack...**She thought this ending was better, and i have to say i must agree. nice choice. anyway, leave a review, even if its to say you want to poke me wiht pointy sticks untill i spill the beans on the next chap. or if you want to leave a perfectly nice comment, please do as well.


	8. Helpless

a/n: a little bit of a filler chapter, not much happening. but still, it's a chapter nonetheless! To **TroddenBlack; **thank you the veggie burger...in return, i'd like to give you a GIANT electrocuted pickle. Hell, pickles for everyone who read this as well!

oh, and yay for divider lines! they finally work!

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Helpless**

_-----_

**_"More than I can handle..."_**

_-----_

She wanted to get out of the ambulance. She wanted to kick open the doors and run back into the forest, and drag Grissom back to base if she had to. She wanted to bring him back and kiss him hard on the mouth and tell him how sorry she was for fighting with him.

But she couldn't.

She couldn't bring herself to leave the woman, who seemed to be only just clinging to life as the paramedics took vitals that were barely there. She couldn't leave. Her brain wouldn't let her body do as she wanted. Like always, her brain was in a fight with her heart when it came to Grissom.

_We were angry with each other…_Sara said, not wanting to think about the fact that Grissom might be in trouble, but her mind threatened to jump ahead of itself. She felt useless, helpless; Grissom was in the middle of a forest fire (a potentially huge fire) and this woman was fighting for her life. And all Sara could do was with and think. Think about how Grissom was alone in that burning forest, and how she had just left him...Her hand trembled as she turned on her walkie-talkie, hoping to God that he would answer.

"Grissom, it's me…Where the hell are you?" She asked the piece of plastic in her hand. It just crackled back at her.

"Gil…Gil! It's Sara – can you hear me?" She tried again, this time louder. Static was still her only answer.

Her heart felt heavy, like it was made of pure lead. All she wanted was to hear his deep voice in her ear, comforting her, telling her that everything was okay. She wanted to lie in bed with him, his warm hands gently stroking her hair. She wanted to look into those deep blue eyes and tell him the one thing she'd always wanted to…

All of a sudden, Sara felt something touch her leg. Looking down, she saw a hand…the woman's hand. It was pale and paper thin, just brushing against her knee from the platform in the centre of the ambulance. The woman's eyes fluttered open, unfocused and distant as she regained consciousness.

"Kids…" She croaked, her voice almost unheard amidst the clatter of movement as the paramedics tended to her leg and the cuts on her stomach. Sara's eyes widened. _Kids? What kids? Wait...she wouldnt have been camping alone, would she?_

The woman's eyes focused slightly on Sara's face. An unbidden tear slid down Sara's cheek, but the woman noticed it before she could swipe it away. Then her eyelids closed and her hand fell limp against the platform. _She's giving up…_Sara realized.

"Hey…hey, I think we're losing her!" Sara said, alerting the paramedics. The walkie-talkie lay forgotten on the bench. Suddenly, Sara was aware of the fact that the constant _bleep, bleep, bleep, _of the heart monitor had morphed into one long noise that rang in her ears over and over. One of the paramedics felt for a pulse on the woman's neck, another reached for the defibrillator. They spouted stats and handed each other equipment over the woman, who was scarily limp.

"Clear!" A paramedic yelled. Sara flinched and the woman's body jerked as electricity jolted through her body. "Will she be okay?" Sara asked a paramedic. He looked worried.

"For now, she's okay. But we gotta get her to the hospital in town…and right away," he explained. But they didn't have 'right away'. Actually, the hospital was fifteen minutes 'away'. A space of fifteen minutes in which the woman could give up completely.

_Hold on..._

* * *

Greg sat in break room, flipping through channels on the TV. It was a slow night plus the fact that the lab was sans Grissom meant that Greg was free to be lazy. He had a Pepsi in one hand, and the converter in the other.

**"**_**The average mountain lion can run up to--"** _

_Neeeext. _

**"_We're going to Brazil."_**

_NEXT! Damn, I hate that guy. Oh..Oh! And there he goes with the shades again. Stupid actors...always posing..._

**"**_**...The Slipstream Airlines flight 307 crash near Lake Tahoe has left many dead…"** _

Greg sat up, the newscaster's words pricking his ears. A pan over a forest area showed the crash site, and Greg wondered if either of his colleagues were somewhere in the forest.

**"…_The death toll has been reported to have reached two hundred and twelve and continues to climb. Breaking news now, from our anchor at the scene…"_**

A man in a suit jacket stood in front of the camera, grey smoke dirtying the blue sky behind him. Greg had a funny feeling from that moment on that something wasn't right. _Why is there smoke? _He wondered. _They said yesterday that they had all the fires under control…_

**"_An explosion recently rocked the area around Sugar Pine Point as a fuel tank caught fire--"_**

Greg stared as the camera panned over the trees, no longer hearing Warrick's story. Smoke billowed across the tree line and a large fire was blazing through much of the forest. _Geez, I hope Griss and Sara are okay… _

"You guys better come see this!" Greg called to Catherine, Warrick and Nick. They hurried over to the small TV set, hearing the urgency in his voice.

**"_Fire crews are attempting to douse the flames that you can see behind me. Reports say that volunteers from the LVPD may have been in the area when the explosion happened…"_**

Catherine's hand came up to her mouth as she heard what the reporter was saying. Warrick's large hand squeezed her shoulder.

**"_...They are currently trying to be located, and here we can only hope that this tragedy has not claimed any more lives than can be helped…"_**

"Greg, go get Brass," Nick told him, "I'll see if I can get a hold of either one of them…"

Greg nodded and (in Warrick's words) 'booked it' down the hallway. Catherine still stared at the screen, not wanting to believe that her two friends could have been involved in the explosion. Warrick's hand started making circles on her back, softly comforting her with words she didn't hear. Words she couldn't hear. It's funny how the most powerful words are the ones that hurt the most.

* * *

Sara got the call as they rushed the woman into ICU. Ducking into an blandly painted and empty hallway, she flipped open the phone. Her heart fluttered for a second, hoping that maybe it was Grissom. But the voice on the other end wasn't his.

"Sara? Are you okay?" came Nick's Texan accent over the phone. Sara felt a pang of disappointment shoot through her chest, "I heard the news, so I called right away."

_The news? Oh God…_

"What news? What's going on, Nick?" She asked, not able to hide the emotion in her voice.

"Sara, there's been an explosion. But I need you to calm down and tell me where Grissom is. Can you do that for me?"

"We were in the forest, and Grissom told me to go ahead and he stayed back and...and...Oh God, Nick, I don't know where he is..." Sara said rapidly, tears starting to roll down her cheeks. At least she had some comfort in talking to someone she knew. But as of now, she was taking it for granted.

"Sara…Sara listen to me. Grissom will be alright…"

She could hear the lie before it came out of his mouth. There was no way that Nick knew that for sure. Then she heard a gasp in the background on Nick's line.

"Sara. I think you better find a TV…"

**To Be Continued...**

* * *

a/n: le gasp! what will happen? review, please!

who can spot the CSI: Miami pun? extra brownie points for the first one! (its quite obvious, really)


	9. Choking

a/n: this chapter is a bit of a shortie (by this story's current standards) but it's meant to be that way. Thanks for the encouraging words on this one, **TroddenBlack.** Thanks to everyone who read this, as well! ... kay, so sorry i havent updated i have a DAMN virus and my computer isnt working! will try to update faster!

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Choking**

_-----_

**_"Still the cold is closing in on us..."_**

_-----_

Sara ran down the white painted hall, the repugnant smell of half-heartedly scented cleaning products stinging her nose She darted into the waiting room, looking wild and frazzled. A TV was mounted on the wall, the chairs scattered around the room all empty. She turned on the TV, anxiously pressing the channel button until CNN came on. The volume was on mute, but she didn't need to hear the news anchor to comprehend the message.

The first shot she saw was the forest, charcoal smoke choking everything it touched. Then, she saw the telltale yellow uniform of a firefighter emerging from the smoke. The fireman had one arm around a man's shoulder, holding a mask over the man's face. As they stumbled toward the gravel road, the firefighter lifted the mask...

…It was Grissom.

Sara's heart raced, pumping excess blood to her limbs, causing them to tingle. _Oh my God, let him be okay…_

Her senses were numbed except for sight; she couldn't feel the absence of the cell phone in her hand as it fell to the floor, she couldn't hear the sound of Nick's panic-stricken voice yelling for her over the phone. She couldn't taste the bile in her throat, nor smell that sickening hospital smell of flowers. All she could do was watch…

The firefighter leaned Grissom up against the hood of a car. Although the shot was from a zoom lens, Sara could see his back shaking as he coughed. The suddenly, he seemed to come back alive and whirled around to the firefighter, grabbing his flame retardant sleeves.

He was yelling something at the firefighter, pointing hysterically into the forest. The man hesitated for a moment, but Grissom shoved his shoulders in the direction of the woods. The fireman ran off leaving Grissom staring vacantly after him into the smoke.

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Grissom watched helplessly as the fireman did as he had asked. His memory of what happened after the explosion was as sharp as a razor blade.

_The heat; the blast; the dull pain as debris rained down from the sky like dark chunks of hail…the cold sting of the little girl's skin as he huddled around her. When the sound of the explosion was replaced by a constant ringing, Grissom finally looked up. The blaze glowed orange around him in the trees, smoke still abundant in the air. A coating of black soot lay around, covering everything in his sight. _

_He straightened his back, still on the ground, and ran a hand through his hair. His shaking fingers came away with blood. He knew he had to get out. He had to get up and move._

**_Get this little girl back to her mother. Get myself out of here alive…_**

_He was coughing now, the smoke catching in his chest. He got to his feet, picking up the little girl again. He covered his mouth with an edge of the sleeping bag; desperately fighting to control the wheezing gasps of air he was intaking by instinct. He looked wildly for an escape, raking his brain for a mental map. **Which way is back to base?** He was still coughing, his lungs screaming for oxygen, his brain screaming for help, and his heart screaming for Sara. _

_Then he had stumbled towards the space where he couldn't see any orange. His line of vision only spanned about ten feet or so. A glance backwards told him that the only thing that had saved him from more debris was a large pine, its branches now littered with pieces of metal and fuselage. His thinking was fuzzy from lack of oxygen, and he continued to stagger away from the blaze, blinking rapidly. Soot coated his eyelashes, making it even harder to see. _

_The he heard a voice yelling faintly, the numbness and the ringing in his ears muffling it. He couldn't find its location amidst his own coughs._

"_Over here!" He yelled, surprised at how stifled his voice sounded to his ears. He was deaf once more..._

_A man in a yellow firefighter's suit came into view out of the smoky cloud that descended over the forest, his reflective stripes catching what little sunlight had flittered through the now blackened canopy. The man ran over to him, pulling out a mask. _

"_Is she alive?" He asked. Grissom found him barely audible but read his lips. He shook his head sadly. The firefighter reached for the little girl, but Grissom held on fiercely. The man yelled something, and took the little girl from him. He felt too weak to do anything else as the man put the mask over his face and led him away from the little body at the base of the tree…_

His brain was numb except for the movie playing behind his eyes, his actions a result of some kind of internal auto-pilot. As the fireman emerged carrying the little girl, Grissom walked up to him and took her in his arms. He walked along the road, willing the sting in his eyelids to go away. A woman told him that the gashes on his head and shoulder should be attended to, but he shrugged her off and kept walking.

The flurries of people were running back and forth, Grissom walking among them like a fish swimming upriver, set on his one goal. People attempted to stop him, but he just kept walking, his blank eyes barely acknowledging their existence. As he passed the bend in the road, camera crews ran over to him, but he just grimaced, walking on. A few other volunteers in orange vests kept them from rushing him, and Grissom didn't utter a word. He just kept going.

His legs did all the work for him. He was starting to feel the pain in his muscles and around his injuries as his brain cleared. Fresh oxygen was being pumped to his brain, clearing away the thick cobwebs of fuzziness. He just kept going, intent on what he had to do.

At last, he stood in front of the refrigerated trucks that served as a morgue, his trembling hands holding the little girl close to his chest. He climbed the stairs, ignoring the stares from a small cluster of people sitting at a nearby picnic table.

_I'm going to find out who you are, I promise…_

**To be Continued...**

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a/n: ooh, do i smell a surprise coming up soon? maybe...


	10. Numbed

a/n: as always, thanks to **TroddenBlack **for her helpful beta-ing...and for making sense out of my confused rants about how this chapter didn't fit. She just sanded the edges a little, and it fit perfectly!

a/n 2: sooo sorry i havent updated in forever..ive been having computer problems, but im back!! thanks for sticking in!!

* * *

**Chapter Ten: Numbed**

_-----_

**_"Bring it to the table, bring what I am able..."_**

_-----_

When she opened the door of the refrigerated truck, she saw the last person she expected to see.

He stood in the threshold of the door, his hair flecked with a dark residue. His chiseled, handsome features were also coated in soot; the places where tears had unknowingly washed the black dust were hidden by his beard and went unnoticed. His normally effusive blue eyes were empty.

He was holding a little girl in a sleeping bag and she would've looked like she was just sound asleep if it wasn't for the gash on her temple and her pale skin. He was holding the girl tight to his body, as if to keep her warm and protected, looking like he never wanted to let her go.

It took a moment for his vacant eyes to recognize the woman standing before him, and when he did, he couldn't help but stare in disbelief for a moment. He took a minute to find his voice, but she waited it out.

"Teri?"

The blonde nodded. Grissom eyes narrowed ever so slightly. His brain still felt numb, and he couldn't think of anything but the pain he felt for this little girl and her mother.

"I…I need another favor," He managed to say slowly, his voice on the edge of breaking, "She goes to the top of the list."

He looked down at the little girl as he said it, his eyes burning once more. Teri nodded slowly, then a little more ardently. She stepped back and let him in past her. Grissom walked by racks and shelves of body bags. It was cold, as expected, but he was thankful. It soothed the ache in his legs. However, it did not soothe the ache in his soul…

When he got to his destination, he swallowed although his throat was dreadfully dry, and stared down. He didn't want to set her down on that cold, hard, shiny metal of the morgue slab. Sterilized, disinfected, vacant of any trace of life, like it always was. Life never happened on a morgue slab. He'd seen many a person lying there, and he never thought of someone more dead on a slab than anywhere else. And setting that little girl on that cold metal had a sense of finality to it that he almost couldn't bear…like if he set her down, it would prove once and for all that she really was dead.

Slowly and painstakingly, he forced himself to gently lower the girl to the table. His hands still shook ever so slightly as he slowly unzipped the sleeping bag. Grissom bit the inside of his lip as he looked down at her. She looked so innocent, so childlike in her Dora the Explorer pajamas.

It made Grissom feel so many things at once. He wanted to slide to the floor and cry, he wanted to throw something, he wanted to scream, he wanted to beat the shit out of a god he hadn't prayed to in thirty years because he had made this child die. Yet all he could do was stand there, his eyes watering and his left thumb rubbing relentlessly against his knuckles.

Teri put on a pair of gloves, the harsh snap of latex against her wrists causing Grissom to flinch both times. She reached for the girl's hand, making to take her fingerprints. Grissom just watched her work, unable to move. He knew he should call Sara, find out where she was and let her know he was okay. He knew he should find out if the little girl's mother was still alive…but he couldn't.

Halfway through fingerprinting the little girl's left hand, Teri looked up, noticing that Grissom hadn't moved since he'd laid the girl down. His attractive features looked pinched, his body rigid.

"Gil…you don't need to be here. Go take a shower or something. Get something to eat…" She suggested.

"No."

"Really, Gil. You don't need to--"

"I said no."

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, Grissom left the trailer. The preliminary autopsy had been done, her prints taken and sent to be entered in the database. He started down the metal stairs on shaky legs, but by the bottom, he was running. He ran around the side of the trailer, and when he could no longer stop it, he leaned his weight against a tree and threw up. 

He stood there for a long moment afterwards, his chest heaving and his insides still churning. He stared out into the woods, the faint smell of fire still detectible in the breeze. He took a deep breath and headed towards the lookout. He needed to be alone to collect himself.

He walked off the path and sat where he and Sara had sat before. He knew deep down that he really should find her. Call her at the very least. But he wasn't ready. It seemed the tables had turned;_ he _didn't want to break down in front of _her_.

He sat staring over the lake, understanding why Sara had come here to think. It was calm, peaceful, quiet…

He'd seen his fair share of bodies. Men, women, kids -- babies, even. But for some reason, some unknown reason, this was getting to him. Maybe it was the body count, the overload of corpses and bits of people he'd found. Maybe it was the fact that he knew that the little girl's mother would be forever ridden with guilt that she had survived and her daughter hadn't. Maybe forty years of death as a profession had finally caught up with him. Maybe he was just emotionally fragile with his relationship with Sara…

Whatever it was, he didn't know. But he didn't want Sara to see his weakness. He was the one she was leaning on (or at least whom she_ thought _she was leaning on) and if she knew how weak he was at that moment, she'd likely collapse too. Yet he wanted to see her so badly, he wanted to hold her…

It was dusk by the time he had enough courage and gathered enough composure to reach into his pocket for the walkie-talkie. But as he reached down, he realized that he didn't have his jacket on. He'd left it in the forest, the walkie-talkie in his pocket.

The fire may have already been put out, but Gil Grissom's whole world was on fire, and it was still burning.

_

* * *

_

Sara stared out the window of the waiting room, a shaking hand holding a lukewarm coffee. She could see herself in the reflection, looking distraught. Her eyes were bloodshot, her hair a mess, and her mouth twisted in a constant grimace. If she focused beyond her own face, she could see the thinning smoke outside, curling up towards the brightening stars.

A nurse had taken compassion on her and brought her a coffee and a muffin twenty minutes ago. Sara had just sat slumped in an uncomfortable plastic chair, mumbling something reminiscent of a 'thank you'. She had been much calmer by then; she'd cried for so long, she had no tears left to cry.

She had slid down to the cold tiles of the waiting room floor as she'd watched the television in horror. The sight of Grissom holding that little girl, his face dirty and his eyes unseeing, just walking…it had broken her heart.

_No, not broken – Shattered. Exploded. Strewn over the 1-95 and run over by an entire fleet of eighteen wheelers. _

It was likely the saddest thing she'd ever seen in her entire life. She couldn't remember crying for that long. And for Sara Sidle, that was saying something. She'd managed to find the cell phone on the floor and press the 'end' button. Nick had yet to call back.

She was relieved.

"Miss Sidle?" came a voice form the door. She wrenched her gaze from the window to see the face of the doctor in the doorway. He looked tired as well. After all, he'd spent a few hours in surgery with the woman. She had massive internal haemorrhaging in her abdomen, and two broken ribs.

"We've taken her out of surgery and she's headed to intensive care for the night. You can go see her now if you want…"

Sara had unofficially been appointed as the woman's temporary power of attorney because she was a Jane Doe. She couldn't leave the hospital in case anything was to happen, but Sara didn't think that she could make it that far. Her legs felt weak, her head dizzy. She just wanted desperately to fall asleep without worry, and with the comfort of Grissom next to her.

Obviously that wasn't about to happen.

**To Be Continued...**

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a/n: you guys just hate that last line, dontcha? i'll take your bitter reviews in a good way...as in you want to read more. which you do, right? 


	11. Burnout

a/n: helloo. thanks for all your reviews...I hope the angst isn't weighing you down too much. I'm working on catching up to my previous updating speed, but things are busy! I'm trying, I'm trying.

Thanks, as always, to **TroddenBlack, **who's comments both make me laugh and help this fic so much. And I know she likes this chapter (angry Grissom!) so I hope you guys do too!

* * *

**Chapter 11: Burnout**

_-----_

_**"A fortune of one; that means less for some..."**_

_-----_

Sara forced herself to get up and follow the doctor. She'd just gotten control of herself and seeing the woman and knowing that her child was dead…it would probably just make her upset again. Then again, the faster she got this over with, the faster she could leave the hospital.

The faster she could get back and find Grissom.

Walking just behind the doctor down that white, seemingly never-ending hall, Sara suddenly found herself angry; angry that she was practically under hospital arrest; angry that she'd let Nick hear how upset she was; angry that Culpepper had almost killed them all; angry that this woman's kid was dead.

Angry at Grissom.

She was angry that he hadn't called yet. She'd tried the walkie-talkie at least a dozen times since the ambulance, and still no answer. She'd tried his cell, but she kept getting the same message;

"_**We're sorry; the customer you have attempted to contact is currently unavailable…" **_

She was getting quite acquainted with the lady from the automated message. And no offense to whomever she was, but Sara really wanted to throttle her neck. Either Grissom had no reception, or just didn't want to call her. Either way, she was still furious with him. She forced that out of her mind as she walked down the hall of the ICU, following the billowing white coat of the doctor.

* * *

Grissom rubbed his face with his hands in frustration. When he looked down at them, he saw that they were covered with black smudges. Sighing, he stood up on aching legs and made his way back to the campsite. He grabbed a change of clothes and a towel, promising himself that after a short shower he'd call Sara. 

Normally, Gil Grissom hated public bathrooms. They were filthy, disgusting, and full of bacteria and god knows what else. Apparently, according to Sara, women's bathrooms were much cleaner, but he wasn't yet clear on how she'd made the comparison. Anyway, this particular night he was thankful to be able to strip out of his dirty and ragged clothing and stand under the scalding hot spray.

He let out a long, exasperated sigh and put his hands out ahead of him on the tiles, leaning his weight heavily on his arms. He watched the soot-blackened water roll down his calves and down to the floor where it swirled and swirled, finally slipping down into the abyss that was the drain. He rubbed his face with one hand, and when he pulled it away, he saw a stream of red water trailing down his forearm.

He'd forgotten that he had been bleeding. He'd forgotten the pain on the outside because he was too occupied with the pain inside.

Grissom didn't know how long he had stood under the shower in that little stall, but it took at least five minutes for his tired body to register the fact that the water had gotten frigidly cold. With one long, last sigh, he turned the shower off and reached for his towel. He got dressed into a black polo and his favourite jeans, rubbing his curly hair so the water droplets flew through the air.

As he walked out of the shower stall and into the men's bathroom, he caught his own eye in one of the mirrors. He walked up to it, watching his reflection grow closer with every step he made towards it. He leaned on the sink, staring into his own faded blue eyes. The wrinkles around them looked more prominent, the bags a little darker; he looked tired.

_I **am**_ _tired…God…what a day. I think I might retire from disaster scenes. I'm just too old for this. Leave it to the younger guys…_

He jumped as the door opened, his head snapping up. His eyes narrowed as they locked on Culpepper's.

_Great. My favourite asshole. _

"Grissom," Culpepper nodded. It suddenly struck Grissom that the police force greeting of nods was really quite odd. He pushed himself up from the ceramic sink, his reflection receding from the view of the mirror as he advanced towards the younger man.

"Culpepper…" His voice was low, soft, and unwavering. He had to take care of this particular problem before anything bad could happen. Well, happen to_ him_ at least.

"Listen -- about today," Culpepper started, obviously unnerved under Grissom's constant gaze.

"Yes, Rick. About today. You nearly killed us all." Grissom stated, his fingers tightly grasping his towel.

Culpepper chuckled, "Everyone ended up okay, and that's what matters, right?"

"Since when did you care about everyone?"

"Oh, come on Grissom..." Culpepper said, pretending to joke with him. Clearly, it wasn't working.

"The only thing you're upset about is the 'minor setback' in the recovery," Grissom said, his eyes never leaving Culpepper's.

"No, really. I'm sorry it happened. And I'd appreciate it if you just happened to forget the cause of that unfortunate accident," Culpepper said, his voice sounding eerily like Ecklie's when he was planning something particularily nasty. Grissom advanced a step.

"Forget? _Forget? _You expect me to have to fight for my own life like that and forget what happened? Oh no, Culpepper. I'll never forget that." Grissom said, still advancing slowly. Culpepper had started to retreat beyond the door and towards the back wall of the bathrooms. The threatening side of Grissom had popped up again, and his presence seemed to take up the entire room.

"Grissom…Let's just think this over for a minute…"

"I've had enough of thinking."

Culpepper chuckled uneasily, raising his hands in a 'surrender' gesture. His chuckle sounded much more like a wheeze. He'd finally realized that trying to reason with Grissom just wasn't going to work. That, and the fact that he was only a few feet away from the wall with nowhere to go. He'd heard stories about Grissom. He knew that when provoked, he could be quite voilent.

_Definately time for Plan B..._Culpepper thought.

"Let's just put it this way then. You don't say anything about what happened in the forest today, and I don't split up you and Sidle like a good supervisor…" He said, reverting to blackmail. At the moment, with Grissom bearing down on him like a bear, he'd do anything.

Grissom snapped. He'd had enough.He grabbed Culpepper by the collar and shoved him hard against the wall.

"You are one _fucking_ sleaze ball, you know that? I've seen nicer _criminals _than you," Grissom said, his voice ringing in the empty bathroom. Culpepper now looked petrified.

He had reason to be.

"You're _not only_ going to refrain from separating Sara and I, you are also not going to tell..." Grissom voice got so quiet Culpepper almost had to strain to hear it, "…Another. Living. Soul. About us. What goes on in my private life has nothing to do with you, and I suggest you leave it that way, or I'll make it my personal objective to get your ass handed to you on a platter...I'm a very deticated man, Culpepper. Don't test me."

Grissom pulled back for a second like he was going to let him go, but slammed him one last time against the wall, watching as Culpepper fought to keep his balance.

"And whether or not I tell anyone about what happened today is at my discretion," Grissom said quietly and left, slamming the door behind him.

He stalked across the lawn outside the bathrooms, the anger seeping from him into the cool night air. He found it was too hard to be angry now. He was emotionally drained; he had no energy to be sad, angry, worried, or thankful. He just wanted to lie down and sleep.

So when he got back to the tent, he did just that.

* * *

a/n: PSST. Two more reviews to 100!!! -hint hint- 


	12. Promises

a/n: Okay, first off I have some stuff to say...I know some of you are complaining about how I'm 'dragging this on'...And I can see your point, because I was a little iffy on it at first. But they way I've chosen to do it is a lot better than putting the 'reunion' in right away, because it seems to fit a lot better where I've put it. Believe me, it'll be well worth your wait if you stick around for just a _liiitle _bit longer, and I'm sure my beta will agree. So thanks for reading, guys...and I really do appreciate the reviews, both supportive and constructive. Thank you!

And a major thanks to **TroddenBlack **for beta-ing. She's awesome. Thanks for all your AMAZING support and ideas...No idea what I'd do without you.

* * *

**Chapter 12: Promises**

_-----_

**_"Visions clash, planes crash..."_**

_-----_

The doctor stopped in front of the large door, Sara in tow. She stared a the blank card in the slot meant for the patient's name, hoping that it wouldn't be blank for long.

If there was one thing that Sara Sidle hated, it was a Jane Doe. A nameless face in a world of millions of strangers. A seemingly random corpse that would go down into the records as unknown simply because no one cared enough to even identify them. But this woman had a name. This woman, more importantly, was _alive. _And if Sara hada nything to do with it, they would know her name soon enough.

"She hasn't come around yet, but if she does she'll be pretty drugged up," the doctor said softly, breaking her reverie. She managed a weak smile and nodded. The doctor did the same and walked off down the hall, leaving her standing in front of the door with the blank card. She took a deep breath and entered.

The first thing her brain registered was the soft _whirrs_ and _bleeps _of machines she couldn't yet see. The room was dark, only lit by a small lamp in the corner and the greenish glow of an LCD screen. The woman's prone form lay in the hospital bed, limp, but Sara could see the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. A clear mask covered her face, oxygen being pumped into it by a tube.

Reaching out a hand, Sara touched her slender fingers to the woman's arm. Surprised at the warmth she felt, she recoiled. She sat down in the plastic chair next to the bed. She couldn't help but feel slightly disgusted at the fact that she'd spent so much time doing her job that she automatically expected to feel the cold sting of death when she touched someone. As far as she knew, everyone was cold.

Sara couldn't remember her parents ever hugging her or touching her affectionately. In foster homes, the people who took care of her were too uncomfortable around her (although they meant well), and if they weren't, their touch was hesitant and their hands clammy. Maybe that's why she felt so comfortable around corpses now.

The only person who had really touched her was Grissom. Grissom was the only warmth she'd ever truly known. She'd wake up with her head on his chest, his soft skin creating a blanket of warmth that kept all the cold everywhere else out. She'd kiss his collar bone and run her fingers through his hair until she had awakened him. She never knew how she had survived without the small, soft moans he made as he woke up, without that glitter in his blue eyes that spread warmth from the centre of her chest and radiated outwards.

She was once again jolted from her thoughts -- for the second time in 24 hours -- by the woman's eyes on her.

"Hey," Sara said, forcing herself to smile. The woman cleared her throat and lifted the mask off of her face, resting it against her chest.

"Hi...you're the one from the ambulance, aren't you?" The woman asked, her voice quiet and raspy, no doubt from inhaling so much smoke.

"Yeah...yeah, that was me. I'm uhh...I'm Sara Sidle," She replied, unsure of what she was supposed to say.

"Rebecca McCarthy," The woman replied, extending a thin hand to Sara, who shook it, once more surprised by its warmth. She began to cough a little then, her tiny frame shaking with her gasps for air. She put the mask back over her face and breathed in deeply, while Sara just watched with a sad feeling in the pit of her stomach. She felt sorry for her. She found it slightly odd that she felt more compassion for this woman then she felt for half of the corpses she'd dealt with over the years.

After a moment, Rebecca took off the mask. She stared at the ceiling, her face half cast in shadow, half in the soft glow of the lamp. Sara could see her eyes watering as her unblinking eyes stared at the bleak white tiles.

"You didn't find them, did you?" Rebecca asked quietly. Her voice was so quiet that Sara barely heard it above the steady _bleep _of her heart monitor. Sara knew that one of the reasons that the heart monitor was making that steady sting of _bleeps_ was because she had a reason to live...and Sara almost couldn't bear to tell her that that those reasons may not be so valid anymore.

"Who?" Sara asked softly, even though she knew perfectly well what Rebecca meant.

"My children..." She replied, her voice breaking slightly. Sara could see a tear slip down across her pale cheek and down into her blonde hair. That tear tugged at her heartstrings.

"Ms. McCarthy...I'm going to be perfectly honest with you here, because I know you deserve the truth, and that's what you want," Sara said quietly, staring down at her hands. She looked up one more at the woman lying in the bed, living for the sole reason that her family needed her.

"I...I don't know where your children are."

A small sob escaped Rebecca's throat. Sara put a hand on the bedrail, taking a deep breath.

"There was an explosion near where you were camped out, and we got you out just in time. I didn't find your children, but there are many people around looking for...people." Sara had to stop herself from saying 'bodies'. She stood up and looked down upon the broken woman, her eyes pinched shut and mouth drawn into a thin line.

"I'll find them..." Sara said, squeezing the woman's hand, "I promise."

* * *

The plane was making odd noises. Odd, as in not normal, as in something wasn't right. And when something isn't right, it has to be wrong, doesn't it? Grissom couldn't help but feel a little panicky, his hands curling around the armrests of the seat. A stewardess with a shell-shocked look on her face passed down the aisle by his seat and Grissom cleared his throat. She stopped and looked at him. Crooking a finger, Grissom leaned towards her. 

"Something's not right, isn't it?" He asked quietly, not wanting to alarm any of the passengers.

"There's nothing to worry about, sir," The stewardess replied, but Grissom could tell she was lying. He looked to up a few rows to see a tiny pair of bright blue eyes staring at him from around the seat. Grissom smiled, not wanting to alarm their owner. The stewardess made to move on, but Grissom's hand shot out towards her.

"Don't lie to me, miss. I want to know the truth," he said firmly. She crouched down and whispered in his ear. But as she did, her voice changed to Culpepper's voice.

"This plane isn't going to land -- at least in one piece. We're all going to die today, Dr. Grissom…"

Grissom stared at the woman, knowing full well -- but not wanting to believe -- what she had said. She stood, picked up his glass, and put it on her cart, smiling at an old man across the aisle. She spoke to Grissom through her teeth, her voice her own now.

"Now, I'd advise you to find your wife and tell her you love her before you die, Dr. Grissom. There's not much time left."

"My wife…?" He asked. The stewardess nodded with her head toward the back of the plane, where a woman was standing in front of a door.

"Oh, she's not my wife--" Grissom started. The stewardess just walked away. As he was looking at the woman coming down the aisle, the plane gave an almighty shake, and people started to scream. The lights flickered, and suddenly the plane seemed much smaller to Grissom; the air harder to breathe.

He looked up a few rows again to the little girl. She was peeking at him again, except this time, her face was deathly pale and a gash ran along her forehead. Grissom's eyes must have widened to the size of teacups. His eyes darting around, he saw a familiar young boy staring at him with unseeing eyes. He had Nike's on his feet and shrapnel embedded in his body. Grissom gasped. Whipping around, he caught a glimpse of the old man. But this time, the old man was missing an integral part of his anatomy…His head.

"Oh my God…" Grissom whispered in shock. These people were already dead. He tried to unbuckle his seatbelt, but it wouldn't budge. Looking towards the bathrooms, he saw Sara, people closing in on her. People missing arms and legs, with gashes and shrapnel embedded in their bodies. Closing in on her, tighter, tighter still.

"No, no…Sara!!" He yelled out to her. He felt a small tug on his shirt. In front of him stood the little girl, her wide eyes blinking as a tear fell down each cheek.

"She's gone, mister. They're all gone…" She whispered. Grissom shook his head violently. More tears streamed down her face. She nodded.

"Look…" She said, pointing to the seat beside him. And there, lying upright in the seat was Sara's head and torso, her skin the sickening blueish haze that he'd seen almost every night for twenty years. He saw his shaking hand reach out to touch the skin, his mind not registering what his extremities were doing.

_Stop! _He commanded his hand, but it didn't stop. He didn't want to know what that skin felt like, he didn't want to feel the cold sting of death. He didn't want to know it was true. But when his fingertips were a butterfly's wing away from her skin, he heard silence. And then, he felt cold. Cold on her skin, cold in his heart. He felt his own skin and it was frigid. The little girl pulled on his shirt once more.

"Hey, mister. You're gone too."

* * *

a/n: Yeah. I know, that was a bit Twilight Zone, but I thought it was kind of cool so I added it. Just to make Grissom just a little more needy..muahah. Don't worry, the torture will be over soon..I'LL POST FAST! (seeing as I already have a lot uploaded.) So...If you want the reunion...I take bribes in the form of reviews!! lol!


	13. Disoriented

a/n: Thanks for sticking around, guys! I really appreciate your understanding and support. Oh, and "The Return of The Brunette" will be coming very very soon!! I figured you guys would be chomping at the bit, and apparently I was making **Print Dust** go crazy (theducks in the rainstorm thing) so...here's chapter 13 for all you guys who stuck around and reviewed! woot for double posts!!

And as for **TroddenBlack**, well you simply rock. Jamming session with Doc Robbins AND Grissom for you, on me!

* * *

**Chapter 13: Disoriented**

_-----_

_**"Don't wanna be left alone, don't wanna be alone..."**_

_-----_

When his eyes shot open next, he couldn't see anything. Something was suffocating him, enclosing him in a stifling case of heat. He thrashed around, trying to pull him arms free. Suddenly, he stopped struggling and lay still, his training kicking in.

Then, as his pupils dialated, he realized that he was in a tent, and wide awake. Throwing off the sleeping bag that had entangled itself around his limbs, he sat up. He reached toward his left side, hoping that Sara would be there.

She wasn't.

He groaned, running a hand through his damp hair. _Where the fuck is she? _He wondered helplessly. His chest had that strange ache in it again when he thought about her. Looking down at his tired body, he realized that even if he tried to fall back asleep, he couldn't without her next to him. He got up then, wincing as his knees gave a little resistance. Grissom wasn't going to rest until he found her.

Even as he stumbled out of the tent, his chest continued to ache, pushing him to go faster. The sooner he knew where she was, the better. Slipping on a pair of flip-flops, he set off quickly down the road, with only the moonlight to guide him.

He headed off towards the main building, thinking that he could use the phone to see if he could call her, since he'd lost his cell. The whole time, his brain told him to think of a decent excuse to give her about why he hadn't called, why he hadn't told her where he was. But he just couldn't string a coherent thought together because that ache kept creeping in; telling him that as soon as he found her, none of it would matter.

He reached the main building, currently NDMS headquarters, not making eye contact with anyone in the halls or standing outside as he did so. He simply walked, staring at the floor until he was standing in front of the payphone. He must have stood there for at least fifteen minutes, watching the green display blink away the minutes.

When he felt a hand on his shoulder, he flinched. The muscles in his shoulders clenched up and he just stared at the wall. He could feel tension rising inside of him, hoping, hoping to God that it would be her...

"Gil."

At the sound of the soft southern accent, his heart plummeted towards the floor. Slowly turning, he came face to face with Teri Miller.

He didn't look her in the eye either. He seemed to be staring right through her, blinking randomly like someone was blowing in his eyes.

"You okay?" She asked softly, touching his arm. He recoiled, like someone had touched him with a hot poker. His eyes squinted but she reached out slowly and grabbed his arm once more, leading him to a bench and sitting him down.

"Listen, Gil. You can't let this bug you," she said sitting down beside him. The fingers of his left hand rubbed over his knuckles, his bottom and top teeth set tightly against each other.

"I've been at this job for nearly thirty years -- I know what I'm doing," he replied. His voice sounded remote, even to him. He didn't want Teri's pity, he didn't want to be told what to do.

He didn't want to spend one more second without Sara.

* * *

Sara sat in the passenger's seat of the doctor's car. He'd been nice enough to offer her a ride back to the camp grounds, and since she wasn't really in the mood to call Culpepper, she accepted. 

He knew not to make too much conversation, and and just looked quietly out of the windshield as he drove. Sara snuck a look at his profile, noticing that he was quite handsome. _I suppose I have a thing for doctors…_She thought. But in comparison, no one's features seemed quite as strikingly handsome as Grissom's.

Thinking about Grissom made her feel even more broken, but she continued to hold it together, somehow. He still hadn't called, and she had no idea where he was. She'd asked a nurse to go through the patients list three times to make sure he wasn't in the hospital. She'd called the headquarters twice to ask where he was but no one had seen him. She was too angry to call Culpepper. Nothing had worked.

The car stopped outside of the gates of the park and Sara quietly thanked the doctor. He smiled and told her she was welcome.

"Get some sleep, Sara. You need it," He suggested. She wasn't even thinking about taking his advice into consideration. She wanted to find Grissom, she wanted to find out where that woman's kids were; she wanted to make things right. Forcing one last smile, she crossed her arms over her chest, and walked away down the road.

It was a cold night and all she was wearing was a thin cotton long sleeved shirt. Her teeth began to chatter lightly, and she realized that it was probably because she hadn't eaten much in the past few hours and she'd cried for a good hour…minimum.

She approached the campsite, glad to see that the LVPD Denali was still parked on it. As she neared the tent, she could almost feel her small cold body warming at the prospect of being in his arms. Unzipping the tent, she could smell the familiar scent of him, and that just made her want to be near him more. But when she looked in, no one was there.

* * *

"Her name was Lizzie…" Teri said softly. Grissom blinked once, and then turned to her. The lines around his eyes softened a little and his mouth twitched as his teeth bit down on the inside of his bottom lip. 

"How did you find out so fast?" He asked. Teri smiled looking down at her knees and back up at him.

"I made a call. I figured you'd want to know right away. I've been looking for you for the past couple of hours…"

Grissom was silent for a few moments, but couldn't find the words to say thank you. He was still lost in his own little world. The images of those three kids in that tent…the horrible gut wrenching feeling of having only the power to take one of them…

"God…how do these things happen? I mean, a few kids go on a camping trip and a plane lands on them…" He heard his voice speaking quietly. He could still see that little girl's face, he couldn't see anything else. The main hall and Teri and the payphone…he was blind to it.

"I see terrible things every day…Car accidents, robberies gone wrong, murdered family members. Dead kids. But this…this was completely random. They couldn't have seen this coming…and so many people died. So many…" his voice began to waver just a little with emotion. Teri's hand reached for his face then, her thumb tracing the lines fanning from his eyes.

When he looked up, the images of the crash site clearing from his head...only to be replaced by the image of Sara standing in the middle of the hall.

* * *

a/n: Well, you guys DID want her to go back to the tent...lol. BUT BE HAPPY. She's back. And I know that ending makes you want to hit something. I am wayy too evil for my own good! hahah. Don't worry, next chapter will make up for it...Back me up here, **TB**!! 


	14. Fusion

a/n: First off, I want to thank everyone for leaving nice comments...you guys rock. I was mean by making you wait for this, but I like to be a chapter ahead, usually. Hey, what can I say? Hard Promises was on TV last night! Damn that young Billy, always such as distraction...lol. Well, here it is. Oh, and by the way, I'm gonna be gone for a few days, so I _might_ be able to post one more chapter before Thursday; after that I'm afraid you're just gonna have to wait! Sorry...

I deticate this chapter to **TroddenBlack **because she wrote _the nicest_ things about this chapter that anyone's likely ever said/written to me. She rules.

* * *

**Chapter 14: Fusion**

_-----_

**_"Hold me close, while the sky is falling..."_**

_-----_

They stared at each other for a moment, Sara with her arms crossed self-consciously, and Grissom with Teri's hand on his cheek. Suddenly, Grissom didn't know what to do. He just sat there, watching her with unmoving eyes. Then he watched as she took a deep breath and turned on her heel, walking swiftly toward the door.

_Shit._

He stood up abruptly, Teri's hand sliding from his face.

"I…I have to go…" He stuttered, and then half ran after Sara and out into the darkness once more. He stood on the stairs for a moment, looking around for her familiar figure. He caught a glint of something in the moonlight, and he immediately recognized it; the necklace he'd bought her for her birthday. That particular item always brought a slight lump in his throat when he thought about it.

"Sara!" He called, taking the stairs two at a time. She shot a glance over her shoulder, but kept walking, her arms still clamped over her chest.

"Just let me talk to you for a sec, Sara!" He said loudly, practically marching in her wake. He caught up to her, reaching for her back but she side-stepped and he missed. She let him walk next to her, but she never even once took a look in his direction.

"I'm sorry I didn't call, Honey," he pleaded with her, his eyes never leaving her profile. He was struggling to keep up with her and talk at the same time. She squinted her eyes and just kept ploughing onwards.

"It's been a long day…I'm tired, and I wanted to find you, but…"

"But what, Grissom? I was left alone in the hospital, not knowing if you were alive or dead!" She suddenly exploded, her feet never missing a beat, "I called you a million times, just because I wanted to know if you were okay! Because that's what people do, Grissom. They care about each other."

"Sara, I--" He started.

"I had to find out from the _news, _Grissom, the goddamn news! And I had Nick calling me to find out if you were okay, and I couldn't tell him! Then I finally get the chance to come and find you myself, I find you talking to Teri Miller…" Her voice started to break near the end of her little rant, but she kept it together.

"I was trying to use the phone to call you…" Grissom said quietly. She faltered a bit then, her pace slowing. But she refused to let him get away with just that.

"Please, Honey…just…" Grissom tried, sighing frustratedly.

"We're supposed to be _together_, Gil...all I did was try to find you so that we could get through this with each other, like a couple! And you practically refuse me. Well, I've got news for you…It's my turn."

And with that, Sara threw open the door of the SUV and climbed in, starting the ignition. Grissom hadn't even noticed that they'd made it back to the campsite. He reached for the passenger door handle, but realized it was locked.

The engine revved, and the next thing Grissom knew, he was standing in the middle of the road, watching the evil glare of the red taillights as they disappeared into the night.

* * *

She gripped the wheel with white knuckled hands. She steered only to follow the road, not knowing exactly where she was going. She let the road guide her around the campsite until she had reached the gates. 

_What the hell is wrong with him? _She thought angrily, over and over. _I try and try to find him to see if he's okay and I find him with Teri..._

Emotions swirled inside of her head; anger, pain, sadness, guilt. They floated in front of her eyes, mixing in with the darkness beyond the windshield.

Anger; she was angry and jealous that Grissom had chosen Teri to talk to over her...

Pain; seeing Rebecca McCarthy lying helpless, away from her kids...

Sadness; wanting to be with Grissom so badly, but being unable to...

Guilt; that she hadn't gone herself to find Grissom before he'd found Teri, that she hadn't answered Nick...

Suddenly, she saw a flash of orange ahead of her and she slammed on the breaks. Her was jerked forward, back into reality as she saw a man in an NDMS vest standing in front of the SUV with a panicked look on his face. He looked her in the eye for a split second, then walked off of the road on shaky legs.

Sara realized suddenly that she had been holding her breath, and let it go. In front of her dozens upon dozens of flickering yellow-white lights danced in the blackness. As her eyes came back into focus, she realized that they were candles, each being held by a different person. Dozens of different people, but all with the same intent...hoping for a miracle.

* * *

He waited, sitting inside the tent with only the screen mesh in front of him. He stared out at the road, hoping that maybe she'd come back. Time ticked on as he watched the moon on its decent toward the tree line, descending taking with it his hopes of having Sara next to him. 

He didn't know where she had gone. He really had no way to find her. All he could do was sit and wait, his eyes drooping with the effort of peering into the darkness. He rested his chin on one knee, and drifted off into the black nothingness of the in-between.

He didn't know how much more time had passed until he heard the scuffling of shoes on the gravel road. It roused him from his drowsiness and he peered out of the tent, his heart desperately hoping that maybe it would be her.

When he saw that glint, when he made out the familiar shape…the ache in his chest stung twice as hard as it had before. She walked up so that she was only a few feet away from the tent, only some air and the mesh screen between them. One arm was crossed over her chest, the other hand in front of her mouth. A quiet sob escaped her, and he could see her shoulders shudder a little.

"Come here…" he said softly, unzipping the tent. She stood outside for a moment, then she fell into his chest, burying her face into his collar. _God, it feels so good to hold her…_He thought, pulling her tighter against him.

"I'm sorry…I'm sorry…" He whispered in her ear until she had calmed down. After what seemed like an hour, she sat up.

"Griss, I--"

He shushed her, reaching over her shoulder to zip the tent back up.

"Not now…"

Her watery brown eyes seemed to pierce his soul. At that moment, he realized that that ache in his chest was no longer his want for her. It was something way different. He reached out a hand to touch the soft skin of her cheek.

"I need you."

With that simple statement, something new had happened between them. He had admitted his feelings; she'd forgiven him. Nothing would really matter until they were ready to face it together.

When her lips met his, Grissom couldn't stifle a small groan. He wanted her, he needed her. She felt the same. It seemed very apparent in the way her tongue played against his lips. He whispered her name over and over as he gently laid her down on their sleeping bags.

"I need you, Sara…Oh God…" He whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her spine. She was sure that that one breath he exhaled could have fogged up every glass surface in the entire lab. She kissed him hard on the mouth, forgetting any other thought that was in her mind.

Grissom didn't stop moving his hands across her skin until it was hot and feverish. That skin alone blocked anything other than pure need from his. He had kept his hands against her or on the sleeping bags, his head next to her ear. But when the hands in his damp hair gently pulled his head up so she could look into his eyes…the ache was suddenly replaced with warmth that spread through his entire being. After that, he never took his eyes off hers.

Sometime later, he lay with her as the sky overhead brightened the surface of the tent. He quietly talked to her, like he'd done so any times before. He told her about the three kids in the tent, about how sad he'd felt, about why he didn't call her...

Only this time, Sara was awake.

* * *

a/n: now, don't tell me you won't review THAT! 


	15. Strength

a/n: Hello! Wow, I'm so glad at the response to the last chapter! Haha, you fluff/smut junkies, you. Kidding -- I love it too. Thanks so much for reviewing...you all said really nice stuff. Glad I made you wait for it?? Sorry I've taken so long to update too. I was in the Big Apple, then when I got back I had to write and get it beta-ed, then write some more, but here it is...Oh, and for any Coronation Street fans out there, I saw Fizz in New York!! (I was pressing for Billy Petersen, but no luck I'm afraid...) Anyway, here's Chapter 15!

Thanks to **TroddenBlack, **who helped me with some big decisions in upcoming chapters...thank you! Hope your PC gets fixed...

* * *

**Chapter 15: Strength**

_-----_

**_"Tap into the water, try to bring my share..."_**

_-----_

Grissom's wide hand was splayed across her stomach, moving with her soft skin as she inhaled and exhaled. The cool morning air floated over their skin, mixing with warm breaths.

"So they're all gone," Sara said quietly, staring out of the little triangular window at the top of the tent. Pink tendrils floated overhead, reaching towards the tops of mountains that were obscured from her view. Her fingers were lost in Grissom's curly hair, absent mindedly massaging his scalp.

A sigh from him was all she needed for an answer. His head lay in the crook between her arm and chest, his eyelashes tickling her skin.

"I don't want to be the one to tell her, Griss…But I have to…" She said, propping herself up on one elbow. He did the same to keep balance, looking at her as if slightly alarmed.

"What, you mean now?" He asked, sliding his fingers across her hip. He was feeling slightly selfish as he did so, not wanting to let her go quite just yet. She bit the inside of her lip, looking up.

"I have to," She said, still not looking at him. Grissom noticed the dark spots beneath her eyes, wondering how much sleep she'd really had over the past few days.

"Sara…It's early. She's probably asleep. And you look like _you_ need sleep," He attempted to reason with her. She lay still for a moment, silence surrounding them except for the soft rustle of leaves in the wind.

"Stay here. Get some sleep until the sun comes up." Grissom said softly, one of his thumbs tracing the dark circles under her eyes. She closed her eyes and sighed, torn between leaving and staying. She wanted to bring some closure to that woman; bring her the news so that, although sad, she would at least know. But Sara wasn't sure if she was strong enough to do it. Physically, emotionally, mentally…

"Sara, don't go…" Grissom's voice hummed, low and gruff. His soft bottom lip grazed along her neck as he whispered to her, "Please…"

She let him gently lay her down, pulling the sleeping bag over their entwined bodies. He pulled her close, his arms surrounding her abdomen and his legs spooning hers. He breathed in deeply, feeling glad to have her with him, but still quite reluctant to let her go.

"I'm not ready yet."

* * *

The sound of a truck roused them both from sleep as it rumbled down the road. Grissom yawned, and then winced as a sharp pain shot through his cheek. A whispered 'ouch' caught Sara's attention. She looked at him through drowsy eyes, but caught it right away. 

"Grissom, you're bleeding," She told him as she lightly touched his face. Red had begun to streak part of his beard.

"Yeah…musta gotten it in the explosion," He said, backhanding his face.

"Maybe you should get that checked out," She suggested with a small but comforting smile. He leaned in and placed a small kiss on her cheek. It was time to get up, time to move on, and time to face everything else. Nothing had gone away, but it just seemed a little bit easier to do it together, and that was what made the difference.

Twenty minutes later, they stood in front of the main hall. Grissom's left hand was clenched, the right flexing. Taking a deep breath and with one more look at Sara, he proceeded to walk up the stairs and into the building in search of one of the people he hated most.

Sara trailed just behind his shoulder, close enough for comfort, yet far enough that she didn't look like she was invading his personal space. It was a practiced routine, much like two synchronized figure skaters that rarely touched; a dance of lefts and rights, never moving out of rhythm…Adept symmetry, like a person and its silhouette.

Their silent duet carried them down a hall toward a table in a large room, where the slightly balding head of Culpepper shone out like a lighthouse beacon.

_A beacon…_Grissom guffawed to himself, _how appropriate. "Watch out for the rocks…"_

As he walked up behind the man, he was surprisingly satisfied to see a slight red mark on his skin at the collar. That small red mark raised his confidence a little bit more, and he cleared his throat. Culpepper turned around, and Grissom saw what looked like fear flit behind his eyes for just a second, only to be replaced by his practiced superiority.

"Grissom," He acknowledged, "he finally returns!" His voice dripped with sarcasm. Grissom nodded his head ever so slightly in Sara's direction, a pointed look at Culpepper.

"And Sidle…are you two ready to get back to work, or are you gonna wait till everyone's already cleaned everything up?" He sneered. Grissom wanted to pound the shit out of the man once more, but he figured that the other supervisors wouldn't like their morning pancakes with a healthy dose of viscera. Before he could speak, Sara piped up.

"We'd like to get back out as soon as possible, actually."

Her voice was icy cold, and Grissom could see that Culpepper was surprised by it. He shifted in his seat and picked up a fork.

"Fine. You better get out there soon then. I don't care what you do, just check in with me by four," Culpepper said, waving the fork as if to dismiss them. Grissom had the slight impression that Culpepper just wanted to avoid all problems with him whatsoever. He had no objections to that. His hand slid across Sara's back and he shot one last disgusted look in Culpepper's direction.

* * *

After getting the SUV, they arrived at the hospital in town. Grissom turned off the engine and waited for Sara to unbuckle her seatbelt before he did. He knew she would be a little reluctant to go in, and he was ready to wait for her. It was going to take a lot from her to do this. He said nothing; he just put his hand on her knee. After a quiet moment, she exhaled loudly and unbuckled her seatbelt. It was time. 

The walk to the hospital room was silent. Grissom knew to leave her alone with her thoughts. When they got there Sara stopped in front of the door, looking up at the name slot. It read 'Rebecca McCarthy'. With a confused look, Sara looked up at Grissom.

"I sent someone to take her prints and run 'em. Then Teri ran them with the girl's…She's her mother. And the other two boys, I'm afraid," Grissom said quietly. Sara nodded, her eyes threatening to well up. Grissom rubbed her arm comfortingly, nodding his head toward the room.

"You should go, Sara."

She nodded once more, kissing his cheek just below the cut.

"You don't have to stick around here. Go get that cut checked out," She told him, and she breathed in deeply, pushing open the door of the room. Grissom watched her go, knowing that she was strong enough to do this herself. Then, once the door had swung shut, he dug his hands into his pocket and headed down to emerge.

* * *

a/n: Geez, I better wrap this up soon, or write longer chapters or something becasue I'm running out of lyrics! Hahaha. Thanks for reading! 


	16. Reflection

a/n: Okay, so I decided to go out on a limb with the lyrics and switch the song. But I'll switch back to the original later. I just figured this one fit. Thanks for all your reviews by the way! You all rock.

Thanks to **TroddenBlack **for beta-ing for me even though her computer is fried and she betas for me at work...haha. Thanks for all your help!

* * *

**Chapter 16: Reflection**

_-----_

_**"It's the calm before the storm  
It's there then it's gone..."**_

**_-- Angels Losing Sleep, Our Lady Peace_**

_-----_

Becca McCarthy, in her mind, had the best life she could ever dream of having. She had grown up in Georgia with an older sister and a younger brother and two loving parents. She'd met Jack when she was 20 and in college at Berkeley. They'd married, had kids and had been successful at their jobs. She'd never really lost anything.

Until now.

That morning as she lay in the hospital bed, listening to the sounds of the man in the next room coughing, the nurses whispering quietly about her condition like she wasn't there, and her leg itching like crazy in her cast, she wondered exactly how she had gotten there in the first place.

They had told her that a plane had crashed in the forest. The chances of a plane falling on her campsite were one in millions, she guessed; a million ways it could have happened, a million fractions of a second in fear that she had spent experiencing it all. A million thoughts running through her head, a million possibilities of where her family was.

Her brain tried to replay every second of it all. She had tried all night to convince herself that she had been disoriented; that she had not seen the children's tent because she'd looked in the wrong direction. She hoped to God that that tree had missed the tent and that Jack was okay, that maybe he had found the children and that they were all okay…Anything, any scenario in which her family was waiting somewhere for her, and it was only a matter of time before they could see each other again.

Every single minute she spent since seeing that lady with the deep brown eyes had been spent thinking about what _could _have happened – anything that could bend possibility before it became reality.

Reality walked into her hospital room at 8:47am.

She didn't remember everything that Sara Sidle had said to her. She just remembered that she had been fast about it, trying to make it quick and painless, like ripping off a band aid. But painless wasn't even an option, and this wound would never heal.

All she could remember was feeling like she wanted to explode from her very core outwards. She wanted to scream, fight -- do anything to prove that fact wasn't truth. But all she could do was bite her lip as tears streamed down her face, looking out the window to a world which would never be the same.

* * *

Sara exited the room quietly and headed straight for the elevator. She hated what she had just done. She hated it. But amidst all the pain of having done it, a small part of her knew that it was right. She wanted to feel the woman's heartbreak, but she knew that she could never really understand the true pain of it all unless she actually experienced it. She kept herself together until the doors slid shut, then she let it go. Leaning against the cool steel of the wall, hot tears slid down her face and she sobbed like there was no tomorrow. She allowed herself six floors of inner chaos, and then it was over. 

The electronic 'ding' of the elevator doors transported her back to placidness and she exited, wiping the wetness off of her cheeks. She stood in emerge, looking for Grissom among the nurses, doctors, and people who bustled about. A young boy sat in a chair, rolling a toy car on his knee, his mother stoking his hair. Sara watched him for a moment, wondering if Rebecca McCarthy had ever done that to one of her sons.

A loud and sudden _whoosh _and a clatter made her jump, and she looked over to see a team of paramedics rushing a man on a gurney into the triage. His clothes were muddy and tattered; there were leaves in his hair. Dried blood covered half of his face, but his eyes were open and moving. Sara's eyes followed the party as it traveled towards her, settling on an orange vest trailing in the wake. Almost without realizing it, she stepped out and tugged on the vest as it passed her.

"Hey, what's going on?" She asked the man. His eyes were wide and his feet shuffled along after the gurney, pulling Sara along with him.

"We found this guy at the bottom of a slope near the crash site…They don't think he was on the plane," he said quickly, then freed himself of Sara's grasp and jogged down the hall after the group of paramedics.

Sara was left standing there and staring after them. Her brain began to race.

_Was he with the woman and kids? No one really knows about them yet except Grissom, Culpepper and Teri…Oh my god, is that Rebecca's husband?! How is he still alive? Is it possible?_

She shot off toward the desk to ask for Grissom. The nurse told her that he was still getting fixed up, so she left a message with the nurse for him to find her immediately. Giving the nurse her name, she ran off down the hall after the frantic party of doctors and interns.

* * *

It hadn't taken too long for Grissom to see a nurse. It was off-season for tourists and the town was small, so not many people were waiting to see doctors. The woman was a quiet young girl who had swabbed the cut with peroxide, causing him to hiss at the sting. 

"I think you might need some stitches, Mr. Grissom," She had said, her mouth set in a grimace. He'd frowned and furrowed his eyebrows at her.

"Stitches? Are you sure? It hasn't been bleeding too badly…"

"Well, it looks like it's having a little trouble healing itself over, so it would be a good precaution. You don't want an infection," She'd explained, rummaging through a drawer with her back to him. When she'd turned around with a razor and some shaving cream, his eyebrows had shot up.

"I'm afraid you'll need to shave."

Grudgingly, he'd taken the items from her and headed towards the bathroom. He liked his beard. Apparently so did Sara, because she'd often rub her fingers across it lightly as they sat watching TV or in bed. But then again, who wasn't to say that she wouldn't do that if he was clean shaven?

_I could always grow it back… _He thought once he was in the bathroom, applying the cream over his face, _But that could take a while. Damn, I wish it could stay… _

With an exasperated sigh, he leaned towards the mirror and brought the razor to his face.

* * *

a/n: Bye bye beard...Damn. I miss it so...On a happier note, please leave a review!! 


	17. Hope

a/n: SORRY FOR TAKING FORVER. I've been so busy, you don't even know! I'll get back to writing and posting asap...!!

Back to the angst, I'm afraid. Well, the fluff was good while it lasted. Don't worry though, maybe I'll stick some fluff in later on. Hope you like this one anyway. Thanks to **TroddenBlack **for taking time out of her hectic workweek to beta for me! If I had a snap cup, I'd give her like a million snaps...(lmao, who got the Legally Blonde reference?)

* * *

**Chapter 17: Hope**

_----_

**_"'Cause it's a bittersweet sympthony that's life..."_**

**_- Bittersweet Symphony, The Verve_**

_-----_

"Excuse me; has a woman named Sara been looking for me?" Grissom askedat the reception desk, craning his neck to look down the hallways. The nurse didn't look up from her papers.

"The brunette? Oh, she's in Emergency--"

"_What_?!" Grissom's loud exclamation caused several people in reception to jump in their seats. The nurse looked at him with wide eyes and realized her mistake.

"Oh, oh no, I didn't mean that! They brought a man in from that crash site and she's with him down in the Emergency Room," She stuttered, watching as Grissom strode quickly down the hall. He found her standing outside of a room and looking through the door. She seemed distant, watching as a nurse fixed his IV drip.

He said nothing; he just silently walked up and stood beside her. She didn't turn to him. After years of standing in front of the two way mirror and knowing his familiar form as it approached her, she just _knew _it was him. She had always loved they way he did it -- the way she could feel those deep eyes on her when he was barely in the door, he would stand with the from of his shoulder just touching the back of hers, the way he would have his hands deep in his pockets…

"Who's this?" he asked quietly. She bit the inside of her lip before answering.

"Not sure. Said they found him in the forest about a half-mile from the fire area," She replied. She knew what Grissom was going to ask before he even said it.

"You think it has any connection to…"

"I'm hoping."

Sara hadn't even noticed his smooth face yet. She seemed too enthralled with the events that were happening before her. Grissom had to admit that he liked it when she did this. Back in the lab before they were together, it was one of his guilty pleasures to be able to watch her rapt expression without interruption or having to find an excuse to walk away. He was fascinated by her fascination.

"Do the doctors think he'll be OK?" Grissom asked softly.

"Yeah…He's a little dehydrated and he's got some cuts and bruises. A nurse just came in and said he had a broken rib and a dislocated shoulder. The guy that found him said he was at the bottom of a ridge. I guess his injuries are consistent with a fall..."

Grissom rubbed a hand along his face once more. Sara could see his hand go up in her peripheral vision but when she heard the absence of scratching as his hand ran along his beard, she tore her eyes away finally to look at him. As their eyes met, Grissom noticed that she looked surprised to see that his scruff was gone.

It was like flashing back a few years to when she'd just come to Vegas…he seemed almost like a different person. Tentatively, her hand reached out to touch the smooth skin, careful not to touch the small white bandage over the stitches.

It was almost like they were in a world of their own. Sara's hand glided over his soft skin, feeling the places she'd never felt before. He watched her eyes narrow in concentration and felt nothing but cool fingers healing his hot skin. All of a sudden they were yanked back to reality by a nurse who popped her head out of the door.

"You guys with NDMS?" She asked. Grissom pulled a paper temporary ID card from his pocket and showed her. She nodded and handed Sara a bag labeled "Personal Effects" then scuttled off back into the room. Sara's face was a little red as she looked sheepishly up at Grissom, who offered a small smile. He nodded his head towards the bag.

"Shall we?"

* * *

_He remembered nothing about what happened. Nothing at all. It was as if he had fallen asleep and woken up dirty and bloody at the bottom of a hill. It was cold when he first opened his eyes. Cold and wet. _

_A voice murmured through the mist and the trees. He was still feeling disoriented and unsure of what was going on, but he tried to call to the voice. The only thing that happened though was a sharp pain in his chest. Something wasn't right. He tried to move to lessen the pain, but nothing seemed to be working. _

_He called out again. This time he heard his own voice, hoarse and crackling like he'd swallowed straw. A few hurried footsteps gave him hope. He called once more and he saw a figure burst from the expanse of forest. The man hollered and two others showed up, picking up his crumpled form and hurrying him somewhere. _

_He'd ended up in the hospital. So many people had been running around in orange vests. He was confused. He didn't know what was going on. He couldn't speak very well. The doctors told him he was dehydrated and that he had two broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder. He had no idea how it happened._

_They worked on him for a while. They put a tenser around his abdomen and cleaned up his cuts. Once they were done, he looked over to see a man and a woman standing outside of the door. The woman was holding his pocketknife and the man was talking to her. She left and the man looked straight at him, their gazes locking._

_The man came in and stood next to him. He began to talk. His voice was soothing, a slow cadence that could lull a giant to sleep. But the words he was saying…they were anything but soothing. They hurt more than any of his injuries; they hurt more than anything probably ever could.

* * *

_

The cool metal of the pocketknife seemed like ice in her hand as she rode the elevator up to the sixth floor. This little silver thing made of nothing but neutrons, electrons and protons seemed such an insignificant object. The fact that this simple tool could make such a difference in somebody's life was staggering. Sara's thumb ran over the lettering embossed on the silvery surface. She wondered if those letters would bring disappointment or hope to the broken woman beyond that door.

She slipped the knife into her pocket just before she went in, still wondering how she was going to go about this. Rebecca was staring up at the ceiling, her eyes rimmed with an angry red. She had her fists clenched tightly at her sides and when she saw Sara they clenched even harder.

"Rebecca?" Sara asked softly. She didn't sit down this time; she stood near the end of the bed and kept her distance. She knew how suffocating it was when people were even a few feet from you after you've lost someone. After her father's death and her mother's incarceration, child care workers and neighbors had held her and stroked her hair, but all that did was make the pain worse.

"I need to talk to you about something. I understand if you don't want to talk right now, but you really need to answer these questions, okay?" Sara said. Rebecca nodded, and her body seemed to relax. Her fists uncurled slightly and Sara noticed small white crescent-shaped marks where her nails had bit into the skin.

"When you went camping…you went with your family, right?" Sara asked, feeling a pain in her chest when the woman nodded, tears threatening to well up in her eyes.

"Your whole family? A husband maybe…" Sara said, putting a hand into her pocket and fingering the knife.

"Oh God. You found him, didn't you? Not him too…not him…" The woman sobbed, frustratedly pulling at her hair with her fists.

Sara took a step forward, alarmed at the woman's reaction. She didn't say anything but held out her palm, the pocketknife sitting in the middle of it. Rebecca, catching sight of it, reached out with a shaking hand to touch it. It was like she didn't believe it was real for a moment, like it was some kind of mirage, taunting her to believe it was really there, yet her mind was telling her it wasn't. She picked it out of Sara's hand after a moment.

"Do you recognize it?" Sara asked after the first teardrop landed on the cool metal, the salty liquid seeping into the fine lines that spelled out the letters of his name. Shaking, Rebecca nodded, tracing the engraving with her fingers as she said it,

"It was Jack's."

"Jack is your husband's name?" Sara asked, just to be sure. Rebecca nodded, looking up from the knife with teary eyes.

"Is he...He's--" She stuttered, gripping the knife tight in one hand.

"He's right here."

The familiar voice surrounded Sara, filtering through her ears and sending goose bumps along her skin like millions of instruments playing in perfect harmony. She turned to see Grissom wheeling the man into the room in a wheelchair, an IV drip hanging from a metal pole attached to it.

Rebecca's eyes grew wide when she first caught sight of her husband. Grissom wheeled him to the side of the bed and reached out a strong hand to the man. Jack grabbed his hand, wincing as he stood. Sara watched the whole thing as it happened before her eyes. No words were said as Jack eased himself to sit on the bed, or as his good arm surrounded her slender frame.

When Jack leaned his neck to touch his forehead to hers and started to sob quietly, Grissom put his hand on Sara's back and led her out of the room, leaving the broken couple to their own privacy.

* * *

a/n: Aw. So sad... 


	18. Chance

a/n: Sorry, I had a little bit of a bother updating with this chapter -- writer's block fairy came to visit! But no matter, it has been beaten, thank God. Anyway, I think there's only gonna be one or two more chapters to this...maybe an end and a epilogue? Anyway, I'm starting a new job tomorrow and my beta, **TroddenBlack, **is going to be on hiatus, so I will need to write fast and hopefully post really soon. So I'd like to send out a big thanks to everyone who's been reading this -- thank you for coming along with me for this story and I really appreciate your reviews and comments. I really hope you've enjoyed it as much as I've enjoyed writing it for you!

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen: Chance**

_-----_

_**"You're not alone in this story's pages..."**_

-----

It was quiet. Oh so quiet. The only sound was the wind as it sifted the black-brown ashes up from the ground like a child blew bubbles into the air, only to float along for a few moments and disappear. An already large jagged scar cut into the forest had been extended by the fire, a large expanse was now also destroyed; only blackened trees and bits of fuselage left standing.

The stood side by side, shell shocked at the fact that they had been standing in the middle of where the inferno did its worst damage. Grissom was the first to be pulled back into reality. He cleared his throat and looked at Sara from the corner of his eye. Her jaw was clenched tight, and he knew that she was thinking about the kids.

"I don't remember exactly where…where the tent was," he said quietly. He knew it was a lie, but Sara really didn't need to see what he'd seen. Being honest with her in this case just didn't seem to be the right thing to do.

"I'll go this way, and you take over there, okay?" He suggested, telling her to go in the opposite direction. She nodded and picked up her supply kit. Before she left, Grissom grabbed her wrist.

"You okay?"

Sara opened her mouth, but nothing came out at first.

"Yeah. Fine," She replied quietly.

Grissom's thumb lightly rubbed over the sensitive skin of her inner wrist. He would often do that when he knew she was stressed out, especially at the lab. When they stood side by side in the interrogation room and he saw pain in her eyes, he'd subtly run his thumb over her radial artery, knowing that it connected straight to her heart. The first time he'd done it, she'd been confused, but immediately felt the combined sweetness and strength of the gesture.

With a paper thin smile of reassurance, she dropped her wrist from his soft grip and headed off in the opposite direction. Grissom watched her go for a moment before heading off to find the tent…or what was left of it. They'd been asked to find the place where the bodies had been since Grissom had been the only one to see them.

He took a deep breath, breathing in the full mountain air, slightly tainted with the smell of burnt wood. Letting it out slowly, he picked up his case and headed towards the skeleton of a giant pine. Some trees were still standing, but were nothing except black coated shapes. Their gnarled fingers reached towards the sky as if asking Mother Nature why this had happened, why She had killed so much life.

Grissom looked over his shoulder after a while, seeing his own footprints clear in the ashes and dead leaves that lay like a melancholic blanket over the earth. He turned back forward and took a few steps before he saw the wind lift one of the leaves ahead of him and something caught his eye. He cocked his head to one side and stopped. Slowly, he crouched down and brushed away at the ash and leaves on the ground. He saw dirt beneath them, but a small sliver of green poked out among the dark and dreary colors.

With a small smile, he stared at the little plant. He realized then that no matter what happened life would still go on. Nothing could ever change that. No matter how bad a situation was, no matter how much damage was done, after enough time passed things would go on. Maybe it would never be the same, but nothing ever was. Under this gloomy blanket was something beautiful that would eventually break through, and the same went for anything in life. Eventually, Grissom realized, something could break through.

Standing back up, he looked around him at the mess, taking another deep breath. Then he spotted the blue material. The piece of metal still covered a little of it, and it occurred to Grissom that it was quite possible that the metal had saved it from the explosion. He didn't want to look inside – after all, his job had been only to find it.

Taking out a new walkie-talking from his pocket, he pressed the 'talk' button.

"Hey…we've got them."

* * *

He met up with Sara an hour later, after watching the coroners and morgue workers come to pick up the two remaining kids. For some reason, he felt the need to look away when the opened the singed tent. He already had a peaceful image of them in his head – he didn't want to change that. He turned back only when they were safely tucked away in body bags. They didn't talk until they were driving back to the base for something to eat. 

"You think it hurt?" Sara asked, staring out the window. Grissom didn't need to ask what she meant by that.

"I like to think it didn't…that it was quick and painless and they didn't wake up. They died in their sleep, Sara," He said, gripping the steering wheel slightly harder, "I just know."

A few minutes of silence passed and they pulled up outside the main building. Grissom reached over and took Sara's hand in his, again rubbing his thumb over her wrist. His fingers were warm and his slightly rough hands felt good on her skin.

"I never told you before," He said, tracing along her veins, "But I'm glad you made it out, Sara. I have no idea what I would have done with myself if you hadn't. It took…" Grissom swallowed then, his mouth dry, "...It took a lot to leave you, Honey. But I had to. I felt so bad doing it and then not calling you but--"

Her finger on his lips silenced him.

"You did the right thing."

That was all the consolement he needed. He lifted her hand and pressed his lips to her wrist, kissing her gently. Then he let go and they went inside to grab some dinner. Apparently though, the NDMS volunteers weren't vegetarian-friendly and had made Sloppy Joes for dinner. Sara frowned and looked down as her stomach gurgled, wondering what she was going to eat. When she looked back up, Grissom was gone.

Figuring he'd gone to the bathroom or something, she went and grabbed two cokes and waited. Two minutes later, Grissom came out of a door with one hand behind his back and a smile on his face. She gave him a quizzical look and he waved a bag of microwave popcorn at her.

"I talked my way into getting it," he explained, looking around, "But maybe we shouldn't eat it here just in case…"

* * *

They sat side by side on the rock, looking out over Lake Tahoe. They were hungrily working away at the bag of popcorn, both slightly surprised at their appetites. They'd been so distracted and busy they hadn't really noticed how hungry they were. When he'd finally licked the salty butter from his fingers, Grissom leaned back on his hands and watched Sara. 

The wind gently blew her hair around her face as she looked out over the lake. She looked so beautiful. He felt guilt creeping up on him again. Guilt for bringing her into such a mess, for leaving her in the forest, for not calling her. He felt guilty about letting Teri Miller touch him like that, for not being honest with her…but there was one thing that was bugging him…

"I'm sorry," He said, watching his fingers toy with the label on his coke bottle. He could see her looking at him in his peripheral vision, but he didn't look up.

"What for?"

He looked away from her, out across the lake at the mountains. He sighed, picking up a small stone and throwing it off of the outcropping.

"I used you," He said, his voice tinged with guilt and a little sadness. Sara looked concerned. He felt her slender fingers on the back of his neck, burying themselves in the curls there. He tensed, still not looking at her.

"When did you ever use me, Griss?"

"Last night, damnit. I used you," He said, anger seeping into his voice. She could tell he felt ashamed of what he had done, and she was a little shocked by it. She scooted closer to him and put her other hand on his arm.

"Grissom…" She said, trying to get his attention. When he didn't look, she lifted one hand to his chin and gently pulled his face to look at her. His eyebrows were low and his hazy blue eyes were tinged with moisture. Sara felt a wrench at her heart for him.

"You didn't use me. You would never use me, I know that," She explained firmly, holding his gaze so that he could not look away. He blinked at her and she caressed his smooth cheek, still getting used to the feel of it.

"You needed me. That's part of it, Grissom -- that's part of _us_. I needed you too, if it makes you feel any better…"

Grissom saw only sincerity in her eyes. He leaned forward, touching his forehead to hers. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment, the smell of him being so close to her. Then a sniffle broke the silence and she was surprised to hear it come from Grissom. Without even opening her eyes, she wiped at his check with the back of her fingers, feeling the tear run through her knuckles.

Grissom's wide hand surrounded hers and he brought her to lean into his shoulder, resting his head upon hers. She would occasionally feel a hot bead of moisture on her scalp and that just made her heart twist even more. Grissom was crying softly, holding her closely. A teardrop hit her hand and she realized that it had come from her own eyes.

"They'll be okay, Grissom," She said, trying to comfort him. It took a moment before he answered, and she felt him swallow and breathe deeply.

"I just don't get it, Sar…what did they do to deserve it, though? They're the kind of people you look at and you just know they love each other. They love their kids. But why did they have to lose all three of them, Sara? All three. Those kids were probably their whole life…"

"You know there's no reason, Griss. No one can say for sure why things happen to certain people; you should know that more than anyone. Things happen by chance, and nothing can change it," Sara said, stroking his forearm soothingly.

"But I can't even _begin _to fathom how it happened, though. One day they're camping like a happy family and the next they're on the verge of death and they loose all three children? The things we see, the cases we do, Sara…most of it is pre-meditated, or someone or something could have stopped it. But this…who or what could have stopped this?"

"I don't know. That's why everyone's here…"

They sat quietly holding each other for a long while, watching clouds drift past in the wind…Drifting along, unaware of the evil that had gone on below them less than 24 hours ago.

_Oh, to be a cloud, wandering lazily across an endless expanse of blue, not a care or a stress in the world. Nothing to care about, nothing to lose..._Grissom thought, sighing deeply. But he knew that that was no life.

He'd lived a solitary life for fifty years. Pretending not to care what happened to anyone around him until he really didn't know what to do when it did. But then he'd opened up to Sara and suddenly he _did _care. And losing her, losing her once he had known what it was like to have her; Grissom knew he simply could not cope with it. The very thought tore him up.

He pressed a few kisses to her hair, wondering about life. What would happen if he gave her more? What if…what if he were to marry her? Have kids? Grissom's heart sped at the thought and he was unsure if it was out of fear or excitement. He didn't know what he wanted, he didn't know if it was worth it.

Was it worth it to make something so great and have it demolished? What if he ended up like Jack McCarthy, childless and almost without a wife? But then again, something beautiful could be built if he let it. Chances, chances, chances. As Sara had said; things happen by chance, and nothing can change it…Life is a game of chance.

He had taken a chance on Sara once, and so far it had turned out well. He liked to be with her, he liked finally not having to go home alone after work. He might even love it. But could he really trust himself, trust life, not to screw it up if he went further with it?

That question was still on his mind as he walked back with her to the campsite. It was still there when she snuck into the men's shower stall with him, when her hands washed away the day's pain. And it was still there as he held to his trembling body, the shower water beating down across his shoulders.

He didn't fall asleep for a while that night either. For Sara's sake he pretended he was until she drifted off, then he watched her in bewilderment as she slept. Finally, when he could no longer keep his heavy lids open any longer, he settled beside her and whispered in her ear.

"I'd lose myself before I ever lost you."

**To Be Continued...**

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a/n: I know, I know, I keep forgetting the 'TBC's and it confises everybody so there it is, haha. Anyway, don't forget to review because PSSSSSSSSST. ONLY 3 REVIEWS TILL 200!! (That's a record for me!!) So if anyone wants to help me out? -- smiles cutely -- Thanks! 


	19. Memory

a/n: **MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYBODY!!** Hee hee. I love Christmas Eve. So as an early present, here's chapter 19...i've decided that this won't count as part of that 'last two chapters' thing I said last post...so really this time, there are two chapters left after this. Hope you enjoy, and Happy Holidays!  
Thank you to **mingsmommy **for the beta!!

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**Chapter 19: Memory**

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**_"We part the veil on our killer sun..."_**

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Sara went out for a run early that morning. At shortly after 6:00 am, the nip in the air hadn't quite been thawed yet. The golden light from the sun filtered through the trees as her feet pounded the dirt shoulder of the road, crinkling the scatter of leaves that lay strewn there. Birds twittered overhead as if they were talking about her, wondering who she was and what she was running from.

Even on this path, which was mostly an uphill grade, she continued to push herself harder. The sting her calf muscles went ignored and she tuned everything out but the sound of the wind her in ears and the pound of her feet. That was what she liked about running; once she got into that familiar rut, that groove where she didn't need to think about what she was doing, where her body just took over. The constant beat echoing from the ground filled the emptiness that was left inside. Everything on her mind faded away and her only focus was the path before her.

Eventually, the sharp chill of the air tightened her lungs, and she was forced to stop. She stopped and paced back and forth along the side of the road for a few moments. The sound of her gasps replaced the pounding, and soon the emptiness was filled again, and her senses returned. She'd forgotten how much she liked the wilderness – trees and hills rather than the desert, as beautiful as the mountains were.

The last time she'd been camping was before her dad's…death.

* * *

_She was lying in the tent, staring at the patterns the light from the fire made on the surface of the tent she shared with her brother. Even at ten she did not sleep easily; there was always so much to think about and sadly, too much to worry about. They had been having fun camping until tonight -- Daddy had started drinking again tonight. _

_She heard her mother say something quietly to her father. _

_Suddenly a loud shout made her jump. It was familiar and sharp, stinging like a slap. Her father. He was saying mean things to Mom again. He was saying bad words and his words were all slurred and funny sounding._

_Sara tried to bury herself further into her Rainbow Brite sleeping bag. Then she saw a shadow rise up on the side of the tent, blocking some of the light from the fire. It was her father, she could tell; the broad shoulders, the long legs. He was waving his arms and swearing loudly still. _

_He was walking like King Kong towards the shadow of her Mom. Then another pattern showed up on her tent – a strong yellow beam. A man's boomed and she realized that it must be a Park Ranger. The deep voice asked her Dad to be quieter, and her Dad kept yelling. Sara felt nervous all of a sudden, and even though she was wrapped up in her favourite sleeping bag, she was freezing cold. _

_After ten minutes of yelling, someone unzipped the tent. Sara's whole body tensed with fear as she stared at the doorway of the tent. When she saw the familiar dark, shimmering eyes of her mother, she relaxed._

"_Come on, honey. We have to leave."_

"_Now?"_

"_Yes, now, Sara." Her mother hissed anxiously, "Get your sleeping bag rolled up and wake up Jeremy," _

"_Why?"_

"_Later. We have to leave now, baby." Sara's mom whispered, her tone softer now but her eyes still telling Sara that she had to listen to her. _

_It only struck her why they had to leave when she'd crawled out of the tent to see three Park Rangers around her father, one of them holding his arms and pinning him to a picnic table.

* * *

Sara had never really had the will to go after that. _

The memory had slightly scared her the first night in the tent with Grissom. She hadn't told him about it -- after all, they both had enough on their plates. That familiar feeling of acid in her stomach returned and she'd wanted to get up and leave.

But he'd asked her if she was awake, and pulled her close and she knew that she'd be okay. She could trust Grissom.

She was sitting on the side of the road, clutching her knees and catching her breath when a silver Impala came down the road towards her. As it approached, it slowed, eventually coming to a stop in front of her. The window of the driver's side went down and a blonde head stuck out.

"You need a ride back?" Teri Miller asked, looking at Sara with a slight smile.

Sara looked at her watch and realized that Grissom would probably be awake already. Looking back up to Teri, she also felt the sting of her calves.

"Sure."

She had no idea why the word came out – she hadn't really had time to think about it. She got into the passenger's side of the car, feeling slightly awkward.

Okay, no. Really awkward.

But she was thankful that she didn't have to run all the way back to Sugar Pine Point. The leather of the seats was cool; a thankful temperature against her legs.

"Thanks."

"No problem," The older woman said, putting her foot down on the pedal. It was a few moments before she spoke again.

"I know you probably don't want to talk about this, but I was just wondering…" She started, glancing at Sara quickly as she drove, "...I heard that they found the parents of those kids."

Sara sighed, swiping some of her hair out of her eyes as if to wipe at an annoying mosquito. Or an annoying question…

"Yeah, they're alive. A little battered and bruised, but they managed to survive."

A few more moments of silence passed.

"That's amazing, isn't it?" Teri was obviously forcing conversation.

Sara was fighting the urge to groan at the awkwardness that filled the little car. "Yeah. And so is the fact that there are under a hundred blue whales in the entire world and no one seems to care about that, do they?" Sara said dryly, mildly surprised by her own sauciness.

Teri fell silent for a long time. Sara just stared out the window, wishing that she'd just run back. Actually, she'd rather run back with one lung than have to endure this awkwardness.

"I'm sorry you know, Sara," the blonde offered quietly, not looking at her.

Sara's eyebrows rose. "For what?"

"Why you so obviously don't like me. I know, I can be a little…well, I can come on a little strong sometimes. I just didn't realize --" The anthropologist sounded hesitant as she spoke, but the speed of her voice told Sara that she wanted to get what she was saying out.

"What are you talking about?" Sara demanded, cutting her off. Sara had the sinking feeling that Teri was about to bring up a very tender subject. And she had no idea why the blonde would have the nerve to do it.

"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about, and I--"

"No, actually, I don't," Sara interrupted again.

"You don't?"

"I don't."

Teri took a moment to think about what she was going to say. She started off slowly, and Sara could tell she was carefully choosing her words.

"I, uh…I didn't realize about him before. I just thought that he was a little odd…Out there, you know?" She said, absent-mindedly tapping the wheel which her thumbs. Sara didn't respond, she just let the other woman go on, "He's really quite handsome though. And intelligent. And I divorced my husband not too long ago, so I was sort of on the rebound. I didn't realize that you were together."

"Grissom and I?" Sara asked, genuinely surprised the older woman would bring this up, "How did you know we're together?"

Teri gave her a 'look'. "Let's just say you're not very good at the whole 'incognito' thing…last night, the men's shower stalls…"

Sara's lip twitched as she remembered letting out a little yelp as she slipped in the mud. Grissom had caught her and they both just hoped that no one had been around to hear it. She guessed they weren't as lucky as they thought.

"Oh," was all the CSI could manage..

"And I didn't realize three years ago, either. God, what is wrong with me? I should have seen it right away…" Teri said, letting out a little chuckle of disbelief.

"Three years ago? I wasn't with Grissom then…" Sara was slightly confused.

Teri let out another chuckle.

"Oh, really? Hm. Well then again, that doesn't surprise me. Unless it's science or quotes, Gil's always been a little slow on the uptake. But I should have known anyway."

"Known what?" Sara couldn't contain her curiosity.

"Three years ago when I was in the lab, I saw the way he looked at you. I saw the way he looked at _me _guiltily when we went out to dinner," The woman's large doe-eyes shot Sara a wry look, "And I definitely saw your name flash across on his cell phone when he got up and left -- he was obviously in love with you."

Sara sat wide eyed, looking beyond the windshield in shock. Had _Teri Miller _of all people just told her that Grissom was in love with her? Silence filled the car again, but this time it wasn't the same kind of awkward silence as before. It was just silence this time.

Teri pulled the car into the campgrounds and let Sara out at HQ.

"Umm…thanks again," Sara said quietly as she left the car.

Teri smiled and reached across to the glove compartment before Sara shut the door. She pulled out a World Wildlife Fund pamphlet and waved it at Sara. Sara saw the whale on the front and couldn't help but smile wryly. She watched the car pull away and headed for campsite 307 in search of Grissom, shaking her head as she went.

* * *

a/n: Happy Kwannza, Hannukha, holidays, Merry Christmas, and whatever you might celebrate! 


	20. Delirium

a/n: Hello! Alas, the holidays are over. Boo hoo for all of us. Oh well., CSI is back on the air! Anyway, I'm back from vacation and just finished this chapter. Unfortunately, only the epilogue is left...I hope you've all enjoyed it so far. Thanks to **mingsmommy **for beta-ing!

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**Chapter Twenty: Delirium**

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**_"Hearts are worn in these dark ages..."_**

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There wasn't much left to process. The clean up crew were starting to clear what was left of the plane. Miniature JCBs and Caterpillars were taking away the smaller pieces of wreckage, and the larger tractors and lift would go in after them and take what they couldn't lift.

The last search for victims was just starting as Grissom and Sara arrived. The fresh smell of evergreen trees was beginning to mask the offending smell of fuel and the remnants of fire. Fifty or so people in orange vests made their way out into the debris field, all sporting the same tired eyes and exhausted faces. But not one of them would let that stop them from doing their job.

After all they were used to it. They'd all worked doubles, or even triples, and they all knew how to persevere until they got what they wanted. And they all knew that this was one job they had to complete. For the victims, their families, and for themselves; for the pure piece of mind that they set out so do something good, although a gruesome task, and completed it.

They didn't expect to find much. Most of the bodies had been found and taken away already. Some were already found in the system. Some weren't. It could be weeks before their identities were found, but as long as they were accounted for, they could be put to rest.

Sara had never really believed in ghosts. Or spirits of the undead, or whatever physics and mediums proclaimed to know. But as she made her way through the rocky expanse of forest, she could almost feel an odd sort of pressure around her. Like all of the people who had died here were part of the air, just watching as she tried to solve their puzzles and bring them home. It was a peaceful sort of feeling, though, like they knew they were going to be found, almost as if they trusted her.

She and Grissom had gotten separated as the searchers had spilt up and went off in their own directions. But Sara didn't mind. After all, they'd spent a lot of time together over the past few days. Maybe it was a good thing to have a little space…To think, to breathe, to be alone. She didn't want to be suffocating him. She was always afraid of suffocating him, but lately Grissom had seemed to want her around a lot more.

Her mind drifted from him as she spotted yet another orange ribbon. They were tied to metal rods, on branches, stuck to rocks – markers that showed where bodies or pieces of them had been found. So far, she'd counted 34 markers. Each one caused a slight flutter in her heart.

She spotted a small blob of brown on the forest floor and presuming it was blood, she bent to look at it. She looked around for something that it might have belonged to, but she found nothing. She was still squatting as a growl reached her ears. She froze, her eyes growing wide. She heard incessant sniffing and was startled as a snout appeared from behind a boulder.

A wolf?

Falling back on her hands, she let out a yelp. Two beady dark eyes greeted her, joined by a wet, pink tongue. Ears were pointed up, and dark fur bristled as hackles rose. Another deep growl came from its throat. Sara was almost trembling as it slowly advanced, a large paw snapping a twig. Shit.

"Jackson!"

A man appeared after the animal, yanking on a black leash that was around its neck. Then Sara saw the vest that it was wearing. It was black, with white writing, 'K-9 Unit'. She let out a sigh of relief. The German Sheppard sniffed her hand and relaxed, then sniffed at the blood pool by her feet.

"Sorry if he startled you," the man said, reaching out a hand for her to take. In an attempt to save her dignity, she defiantly stood up on her own, barely looking at the smooth, large hand that reached in her direction. She didn't take it and stood up herself on shaky legs, self-consciously brushing off her jeans.

The man had ebony skin and startlingly green eyes. His hair was hidden behind a bandana. Sara could help but smile. The man reminded her of Warrick.

"Its okay. I, uhh…I guess I just got a little caught up," Sara said, watching as Jackson searched around, his nose to the ground. She wondered if he'd found anything today.

"It happens to all of us," The man said with a smile. His teeth were a dazzling white. Sara's eyelids fluttered and the man reached out and grabbed her forearm.

"You okay? Maybe you should sit down or something," he said worriedly. Sara shook her head, blinking to get rid of the odd lightheadedness that was overwhelming her.

"You got the time, by any chance?" She asked him. He looked at his watch.

"Almost 11."

Sara's eyebrows went up. Had she really been out there that long? The Warrick-look-alike was staring at her. She forced a smile.

"Oh. Well, I better go back to base then…" She had recovered from her weak moment and began to walk away in the other direction, the man watching her leave.

"You sure you're okay?" He called. She waved over her shoulder without looking back, wondering why time went by so fast.

* * *

Grissom had been searching for a while and was beginning to grow weary. Somehow he ended up sitting at the base of a charred oak He'd gotten hot and taken off his vest, and was now sitting on it. Looking around, he noted that the wind had taken a lot of the ashes away.

As much as he knew he had to do his job there, he was grateful to go home soon. He was exhausted in every sense. Things just seemed to be weighing on him more than usual. Sighing, he rested his head against the tree. The air smelled like churned up earth and musty wood, with just a hint of ash. The tree's ancient bark was rough, but its roots seemed to cradle him into its trunk.

He rubbed his eyes with one hand, letting out a small sigh. He was jealous of this tree. It got to live for so long; it got to see this beautiful sight every day. Nothing bad really happened to it. If it got shot it wouldn't die. If he chopped off half of its branches it would still live. It could grow them back. It lived its life as a fortress, and would eventually have many offspring.

But then Grissom realized that in this tree's long life, it would never see much else than twenty feet around it. It never got to move, and it was always solitary and isolated. It just stood there, letting time pass by before it.

_Life is an odd, odd thing, _Grissom decided, _So many ways it can be lived, yet does it ever turn out the way you want it? _

Something told Grissom to open his eyes, and he saw what looked like the blurry form of a little girl peeking from behind a tree. She was blonde, with big blue eyes and a sad smile.

"_By the time you die, you won't regret living at all. Because at least one moment of it was worth it..."_

The little girl spoke to him, but her mouth didn't open. He squinted at her and then blinked. She was gone. Nothing was there; nothing was left except for the words lingering in his head. He stared at the spot for a few moments, confused. Was he that exhausted that he was delusional? Surely he hadn't seen a ghost. Grissom didn't believe in ghosts. It was probably a trick of his mind, a figment of his imagination. Probably a thought from his subconscious, he decided. But whether it was specter or part of his mind's eye, the advice was good advice. He leaned his head against the trunk of the tree, closing his eyes and tilting his head upwards, thinking about what he'd heard, or thought he'd heard.

That was how she found him. She hadn't even been looking for him, but as she made her way through the forest, she spotted him sitting at the base of the giant tree, his chest rising and falling softly under his black polo. She approached him and his eyes opened as she came closer.

"Sara."

Her name was quiet on his lips, like he didn't want to break the silence around them. Grissom could feel his heart swell as she came closer. He motioned for her to sit next to him. She complied, shucking her orange vest too. Grissom looked tired but oddly peaceful, like he was perfectly content to be there, sitting at the base of the tree.

"You okay?" He asked quietly after a few moments of sitting in silence. His hand sought out hers and his large fingers slipped between hers. She squeezed them and exhaled her answer.

"Yeah."

"Home soon," He said, watching their hands. She looked at him, surprised to see him this serene in the middle of such a disaster. She wondered what had gotten into him. She nodded and he looked up at her. They locked gazes and Sara saw something in his eyes that she'd never seen.

He broke the gaze and reached for her waist and simultaneously moved the leg closest to her. Sara found herself being pulled between Grissom's legs. Leaning back against his broad chest, she felt his warm hands slide down her arms and down to her stomach, where his forearms surrounded her.

Once again, she found that it felt right to be close to him. He leaned his head in towards her, pressing his lips lightly against her shoulder. She could feel his warm breath on her skin and she closed her eyes. She couldn't see, of course, but his were closed too. His mouth moved closer to her ear, she could feel his breath. She heard his soft intake of breath before his equally as soft whisper.

"I love you."

She could hardly believe he'd said it. But the squeeze of his arms around her made her believe that he had. She pressed her back against his chest and reached one hand up into his hair. When the first hot tear of rolled down her cheek and onto his, Grissom knew.

He'd found that one moment with living for.

**To Be Continued...**

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a/n: Oh, come on -- don't tell me you can't resist pressing that little purple button right down there. Its calling your name! "Push me, push meee!" Hahaha, just joking. But don't forget to leave one, please. I'd appreciate it!

Happy Early Monday. - smiles sardonically -


	21. Epilogue

a/n: Well. Its _finally _done! It only took half a year, lol. I'd like to take this chance before you read this last chapter to thank everyone for reading, reviewing, and overall, for being supportive. Thank you so much, I really appreciate it! Wow, I've never had this many reviews before...you guys are awesome. And a huuuge thanks goes out to my betas, **TroddenBlack** and **mingsmommy. **They've made a lot of this story way better than I'd even planned. Especially **TB**, whose ideas had a lot of say in the early chapters. Anyway, thanks to everyone, and I hope to come up with something new soon!! And now, may I present...

_

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**Chapter Twenty One: Epilogue**

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_"**You're not alone in this story's pages..."**_

_-----_

_Emilie Louise Farragher, 32. Loving wife & mother of 2. Will be missed by all who encountered her…_

_Sylvia P. King, 50. Mother, friend, sister, and soon-to-be grandmother… _

_John-Ryan McDermott, 17. Brother, son, grandson. Star quarterback at Phoenix Union High School…His spirit will live on with his memory…_

_George Michael McCarthy, 10. Son, role model & big brother. Brother of Christian Owen McCarthy, 7. Son, brother, friend. Their ever-present smiles will be sorely missed…_

Grissom stood quietly, the wind gently toying with his curls. His still-smooth cheeks felt sensitive to the crisp chill in the air, although the sun was hanging in the sky, yet to sink below the horizon. His mouth was set into a sad grimace, hand shoved deep into the pockets of his sweater. As he read through the names, he could feel a sad sort of ache in the pit of his stomach.

They brought back memories that replayed through his head over and over, and Grissom wasn't sure if this was a good thing or bad thing. Should he really be thinking of himself at a time like this? Should he not be thinking about _them_; the people that belonged to the names he was reading? He couldn't help it though; the memories just wouldn't leave his head.

In fact, they got even stronger as his eyes fell upon the next name. His eyes stung and he felt suddenly weak. A vision of a little, limp body with blonde pigtails forced itself to be displayed in his mind's eye and there was no way he could suppress it.

_Elizabeth Rebecca McCarthy, 6. Daughter, sister, and light to the world. Rest happily, Lizzie. _

His fingers clenched at the fabric of his pockets and he had to bite the inside of his lip to keep the tears from falling. That little girl, the one with the sweet, innocent looking face…Grissom knew it was her. He could feel it, pressing hard on his chest and lungs. He was biting his lip so hard now that it would surely start to bleed.

"Hey."

A soft voice jolted him out of his thoughts and he quickly backhanded his cheeks, wiping away moisture that had somehow escaped his eyes without notice. He was solemnly staring at the large grey monument as Sara stepped up beside him. He could feel her looking at his profile, but he said nothing.

Sara took in the white engraved letters before her, knowing immediately what they meant to him. She had her own memories running through her head now, sad memories of a time exactly a year before. Silently, she slid her arms across his back, sitting her hand on his waist and leaning her head against his shoulder. After a moment, she felt his large, warm forearm against her own back.

They stood like that for a long time; just looking and thinking alone, yet together. Every so often the breeze would delicately blow Sara's dark hair around her face. Had Grissom noticed, he would have seen how forlornly beautiful she looked. Then again, he didn't need to see her to know how beautiful she was any more.

After a while, Grissom was aware of the shape of another person near him. It was a woman, he deduced; short and delicate...He still hadn't looked over at this woman, but he could make out her form. She was pregnant, her small hands protectively holding the graceful bump of her stomach. Her dark-blonde hair fell like a veil around her face as she looked down.

Grissom's curiosity overtook him as a man's form came up beside the pregnant woman, holding a bouquet of flowers. Grissom finally looked over. His blue eyes were met by the watery blue eyes of the woman, and he swore he could feel the pain radiating from her. Her eyes flashed in recognition and Grissom felt a sharp twinge in the pit of his stomach.

A moment passed between them, unspoken words floating on the breeze, invisible to the rest of the world. Grissom looked away from her and put his mouth to Sara's ear.

"Let's go, Honey," he said quietly, his voice rough with emotion. Sara's eyes met his with confusion and uncertainty, but she complied, letting him shuffle her away with his hand on her lower back. She was unaware of the people that had been next to them until she felt a small, cold hand grip her wrist.

Turning, she was met with the sad gaze of Rebecca McCarthy. Sara's mouth dropped open and her eyes widened, but she said nothing. Shocks of electricity ran from where the other woman was touching her wrist. She could see Rebecca's mouth grimace as she swallowed thickly.

"Thank you."

That was all she said. Just 'thank you'. Letting Sara go, she let her hand fall to the underside of the pregnant belly. She walked back to Jack, who was looking away over the ridge, taking in the sight of the green second-growth of forest that was arising from what had once been tall sugar pines and cedars. Grissom noticed that Jack now had slight grey patches at the sides of his head.

After touching his hand to Rebecca's belly, he finally looked up. The man noticed Grissom looking at him and gave a nod, which Grissom returned. He was – again – startled by the look of pain he saw in his eyes. Jack turned away quickly, and when he bent to place the flowers below the monument, Grissom knew it was time for he and Sara to leave.

They made their way back to the SUV silently. Grissom started the car without a word, and neither spoke until they pulled up to their destination. He turned off the ignition and made no move to get out of the car, so neither did she. They stared at each other for a moment, until suddenly one of Grissom's hands was tenderly touching her neck and his lips were against hers.

It was a light kiss, but full of emotion. A lot had changed since they'd been at Lake Tahoe last. A year ago, so much pain and suffering had entered their lives, but together they had overcome it. Grissom had returned to Vegas with a new scar on his cheek, but it was defiantly not the only one. One deeper than that had tormented him, but Sara had healed it, just like the physical one.

Breaking away from the kiss, he grabbed her hand. Stroking it lightly, he said the words he knew he didn't say near enough as many times as he should.

"I love you."

"I love you, too," she returned quietly.

With a sad smile, Grissom got out of the car and headed down the path with her, his fingers intertwined with hers. They passed the familiar lookout over Lake Tahoe and down to the outcropping of rock that had an old sense of familiarity to it.

Sara watched as Grissom pulled a lighter out of his pocket. It had once been blue, but its plastic surface was now blackened, its shape hopelessly heat-warped. But still, on the bottom of the lighter, the initials "R.C." were still visible.

"Ready?" Grissom asked, curling his fingers around the lighter. Sara nodded, hoping that they'd never see the item again. With a tiny hint if a smile, Grissom's arm pulled back and he hurled it out over the rocky outcropping. They watched silently as it plummeted down towards the water and eventually disappeared beneath the tiny waves. Except for Grissom's scar, it was the last physical reminder of what had happened to them the year before.

Grissom knew he was dealing with chances again. Actually, since the last year, he'd been dealing with chance all the time. And so far, he regretted none of it.

* * *

A few hours later, they were in bed in a B&B they'd found near the lake. Grissom loomed over her, his tan skin glowing with just a touch of red. He was kissing her decidedly and warmly. He'd mumble her name every so often and she'd feel the humming in his chest. He slid his hands down her bare hips and she shivered. 

"God, Sara…" Grissom moaned, his chin dropping as his eyes closed in anticipation. Sara suddenly realized something and her eyes shot open.

"Damn it, Griss. Youre not wearing…" She muttered, attempting to reach over the side of the bed to grab the box of condoms from her duffel bag. In that second, Grissom made a decision that he'd first contemplated when he'd first seen Rebecca McCarthy.

Sara's hand was reaching for the bag, but since her body was pinned underneath his, she didn't have much room for movement. She found her arm being pushed over her head by his large, hot fingers as they wrapped around her wrist. Confused, she looked up into his eyes and saw a fire deep within their depths that she'd never seen before. A fascinating, intense blue like the color of the driftwood fires of her childhood.

"Don't," he said. His voice was husky and Sara almost couldn't bear to challenge him.

"But if--"

"Don't."

This time, his voice was softer. Slowly, he slid his fingers down her waist. The blue fire consumed her, gripping her heart and her insides and spreading outwards. He kissed her once more, this time lengthy and meaningful.

"I love you." Over and over again over the next while, those words were repeated like a mantra across his lips.

Doing what they were doing was one of the biggest chances they'd ever taken. But if the McCarthy's had been able to overcome the kind of pain they'd experienced, if good things really could come from the bad, maybe this chance would be one worth toying with.

After all, out of tragedy comes purpose.

**the end.**

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a/n: Thank you again for reading!! You guys are amazing. Hope to hear from you all later.

-- sweet-surrender5

Oh, and I must credit **sparklin-strawberries **for that last line. You're a genuis, Em...But what happens if you BOTH have glasses?? Hmm? Tell me THAT.


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